After Armageddon
by TheMason
Summary: AU:What if Albus didn't leave Harry unprepared for any circumstance in a brutal, massive magical world. Apocalypse setting with flashbacks of a bigger, more violent Magical Britain. Lord Potter after 5 years of war against Voldemort, drastically different HP!Universe. Somewhat Godlike!Harry, Powerful!Death-Eaters, Powerful!Order, Hallows play a smaller but still significant part!
1. Prologue

**General disclaimer: I claim no ownership of the characters used in this story, and I claim no ownership of the Harry Potter franchise in general.**

 **While I generally disagree with directly copying people's work, feel free to take mine and use it as you wish in your own stories, however since it is against policy to have duplicated uploads of content, I must disallow anybody reuploading my work in its entirety on this site. If you do reupload it elsewhere, please give me credit though!**

 **This story is definitely AU. I want to diverge how Harry lived his life from the very beginning of the books. He will still have the same life as pre-Hogwarts Harry, but I want him to be a somewhat smarter 11 year old than normal who is thrust into a difficult situation and somehow bears the pressure adequately. Think of it this way, if Harry could cook, clean, garden, go to school, deal with the pressure of neglect from relatives, deal with stress of being bullied by said relatives, surely he can juggle the responsibilities on an under-age Lord? (Which amount to being careful about how he behaves and talks, and who he talks to really for his years as a child, and learning about and also how to perform his duties as Lord, while going to school to learn MAGIC, I mean what child doesn't want to learn magic?)**

 _ **This first chapter is just the prologue. I may do a prequel to this if I ever finish it, I have a lot pre-written already, some set during Harry's school**_ ** _years(This would be distant, DISTANT future)_** _._ ** _Please give feedback in reviews, I want to give you a pristine product, not a half-arsed jumble of words. This prologue has a LOT packed in, but the next chapter should be more ordered. I need to give you a lot of information to set the scene I want, as there are not many similarities between this Harry's school life and original Harry._**

 **First uploaded 22/4/16**

 **Now then, on with the story!**

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A black-gauntleted arm outstretched towards the ground, a back stooped to pick up the loose sand-like soil and roll it gently between the metal-clad tips of fingers. All around was a familiar sight in the 2004 British country-side, nothing but desolate, barren terrain stretching for miles and miles.

Harry James Potter straightened his back and surveyed the distant landscape. Sandy dunes spread for miles, the occasional skeleton of a chimney stack or low wall were scattered about breaking up the rolling landscape. All was normal, bar one thing. The almost pristine small, white house that stood proudly amidst the sandy ground rising above all of the surrounding dunes was the only irregularity. It sat on a perfect circle of emerald-green and well-trimmed grass, with small amounts of rubble to the left, right and front, signifying where the previous houses and road once were. Moving away from the house, a small stretch of grey lumps littered the ground, showing where other houses and the asphalt road used to sit.

His journey was almost over. He would go inside, retrieve his prize, and return home. The corner of his mouth was quirked at the pleasant thought of a hot bath and good food back at Hogwarts. His mood soured and he bit back a groan when he forcibly reminded himself of the politics and almost assured anger he would likely be returning to also. The risk was worth the reward, but he felt tired just thinking of the repercussions he would almost certainly feel upon his return.

Not a grain of sand moved into the green circle. A perfect circle of perfect grass and perfectly clean paths. Harry was almost certain that if he went around back that he would find some perfectly kept rose beds. A circle that time seemed to have forgotten. Harry made his way to the door where a slightly battered looking number four was affixed.

"Looks like Mum's wards were stronger than Albus thought." A slightly amused Harry murmured to himself quietly. He hadn't seen this house in almost 6 years, and it looked exactly like it did when he, and shortly afterwards the Dursleys, left. A small mutter and a gesture of an empty, un-gauntleted hand, and the door clicked open.

As he pushed his way inside, a small whiff of bacon grease made him wince as it assaulted his nostrils. The scent left quickly and was replaced by the acidic smells of cleaning fluids and stale lavender scent.

' _A minor improvement to the usual stench, I suppose._ ' He thought morbidly. He remembered the horrific shelter he had last found himself in, along with its deceased occupants. The perfectly preserved bodies of the Muggleborn couple found at the foot of the stairs. The door to the nursery upstairs was ajar. He never found the courage to peek inside, but past experiences already told him what he would find.

Clearing his head of the morbid thoughts, he glanced about inside. Almost nothing was out of place. Thoughts of his relatives leaving in a hurry made him chuckle. To leave without taking everything of worth, they must have been worried. His eyes landed on the small cupboard under the stairs and a grimace found its way onto his lightly shaven face. He remembered time spent under the stairs, his body in pain and often bleeding, while his magic healed his battered skin. He quickly walked over to the tiny door.

He ripped the door open with the metal claw on his right arm, and poked his head through the opening. Cobwebs, dead spiders, and a musky odour greeted him. A quick flick of his bare left hand and all was clear in the cupboard. A tattered mattress along with a slightly off-colour patch of concrete was seen beneath the vanished filth. A smug grin appeared on his lips, and a massive feeling of vindication filled him.

' _Hermione will be so mad she was wrong'_ he chuckled to himself in his mind. He sobered when he realised what that might mean for his own health. ' _Scary woman._ '

His left hand now filled with a thin, knotted stick of Elder-wood, a short jab vanished the offending concrete. Reaching in, his hand came out tenderly holding a small gold band with a feminine and stylised 'P' inset into it. A sad look crossed his face as thoughts of his mother's final sacrifice entered his mind.

' _Her wedding ring. The ring Dad gave her._ ' He thought to himself, with a sad undertone. He was happy to have yet another of his parent's possessions with him, especially considering what significance it held, but he couldn't help thinking of the what-ifs.

Albus had been correct, and incorrect in his assumption about his mother's sacrifice. Yes, her sacrifice protected him, and yes, he needed to be near the ring for it to work. However, there was no need to be near his horrific relatives for it to protect him. Albus had been a kind soul and thought the best of people he didn't know intimately, one of his biggest failings really.

What his mother had done was Old Magick. Very powerful Old Magick. There were no complete records of how these spells or rituals were done, only that they predate the Founders by several generations, and were incredibly powerful and far more common back then. While wand making was commonplace in most of the European magical societies, wands were a rarity in Britain back then and non-existent in Ireland, therefore old ritual Magick was the most common sort of witchcraft or wizardry performed.

When he thought of his mother's accomplishment, he felt immensely proud. She had little but guesswork and rumour to work with, and she had recreated one of the most powerful rituals known to wizardkind. He still didn't know if she took a risk with what she did, he didn't know if _she_ knew what she was doing, or was just hopeful. He hadn't spoken to her in years, and he didn't intend to anytime soon. He wanted to let her rest, along with his father and Sirius. Using the stone was bad, not for their spirits, but for his mental health. The strongest of wizards can still fall to their temptations.

The beautiful wedding ring stood out starkly against his black, metal-clad arm. It was basically another Hallow. His mother's magic hummed faintly within if he stretched out his magic to it. In her dying moments, Lily Potter nee Evans had pushed all her magic, all her desire to save her son, even her very soul briefly entered the ring, and gave the object a purpose before she passed on. _**'Protect Harry'**_.

He now had the four most powerful items in Britain in his possession or on his person. He had Albus Dumbledore's wand, the greatest tool of power, might, and avarice. The greatest weapon, the most efficient tool for spreading death. He had the Gaunt family ring, the irreplaceable tool, and ultimate temptation. The only object which could be used to communicate with the dead. He had his father's cloak which can hide the wearer from even Death himself; or herself, Harry supposed. The ultimate tool of stealth or reconnaissance. Now, his mother's ring, the tool he will use to protect himself and his surviving friends from Voldemort.

He was happy this trip had paid off. Two weeks travelling on foot through deserted towns, barren landscapes and avoiding Death Eater patrols had taken it out of him. It was safe to Apparate home, but moving via magical means was a sure-fire method of finding yourself surrounded by Death Eaters. With the Floo destroyed, the Knight Busses understandably out of business, and even brooms being unsafe, walking was the only way to ensure he wasn't found.

Not that it would make much difference if he was found. There were few wizards in Britain that could match him one versus two or three, his near-equals he could count in under a dozen. But safety and espionage were paramount now. Scotland would soon be invaded if he was found this far south.

Harry stepped out of the now receding circle of green grass. With his wand in his hand as a few mutters passed his lips and the house began to crumble behind him. The spells he used were simple ones, to accelerate decay and cause entropy using the least amount of magic possible, while hiding his magical signature successfully. Harry said nothing, but was glad all the same that the house was no more.

Not only would the Death Eaters now see the house with his mother's and Dumbledore's wards gone, but it would let them see it in perfect condition. This would have led to suspicions of a powerful spell protecting something important. He did his best to make the now dismantled house into sand similar to its surroundings. Once satisfied, he was on his way again.

While he could safely Apparate back into the Scottish borders without his enemies knowing, they would know where he Apparated _from(_ **AN:** _Small note, the term "Apparition" is the name of the method of travel, you Apparate_ ** _to_** _your final destination, and you Disapparate_ ** _from_** _your starting location.)_. Harry did not want anyone snooping around and finding his magical signature, however faint, anywhere near his previous residence. Once he was almost two miles from the previous location of No.4 Privet Drive, he gathered his magic, turned on his heel, and disappeared with only the softest 'pop' as he Disapparated away.

#####

Not five minutes later, a team of twenty Death Eaters Apparated in with sharp cracks and started casting various detection spells and warding the area against any Portkey travel or Apparition. A two hour search turned up no results, no safe house, no bolt hole, no supplies, not even a magical signature from the Apparition.

The lead investigator, a rotund man barely fitting in his black robes, knew this could only mean a powerful wizard. The fact that there was no detected unauthorised Apparition to anywhere else in England, Wales or Ireland could only mean one of two things. Either a highly talented wizard Apparated into a very heavily warded house within reasonable distance, or, the more likely answer, Potter or one of his more powerful followers had been here, and Apparated all the way back to a safe house either in Wales or Northern England, perhaps even France, or dare he even think it, _Scotland.._.

This fact worried Lead Investigator FitzGoyle heavily. Apparating from one end of the street to the other was a tiny amount of magic, barely more magic than it would take a person to blink. Twice that distance was about three blinks. Twice _that_ distance was 10 blinks. However, Apparating several miles left many a wizard or witch a bit out of breath, a tad dizzy really, and plenty tired. Most peoples limit without the aid of wards, even in this day and age, was twenty-five to thirty miles _maximum_. Apparating several hundred miles was unthinkable. The magic required to Apparate from where they were standing to Wales or France, let alone _Scotland_ was several times more than a normal witch or wizard had in their whole bodies. To do so without leaving a magical trace... Potter had always been known to be on par with their Dark Lord. Anyone heard saying it, however, was soon found tortured senseless.

FitzGoyle would need to talk to his superiors about this, before the rest of his team started gossiping. He saw a few worried faces from a few who he guessed knew what they were looking at already. Having them Obliviated seemed like a good idea. They wouldn't want panic in the ranks.

#####

Harry arrived somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, slightly dizzy. Long distance and stealthy apparitions were always unreliable for their accuracy. Few could actually do it, and nobody could do it as far as Harry, therefore little was known about it bar his experience with it. He was just glad he hadn't ended up in a lake again. Hermione would be furious with him if she found out. She hated how unpredictable and dangerous it was, simply because she couldn't guarantee his safety and she had never read about it before and didn't know the risks involved.

"It shouldn't even be possible!" He remembered her huffing, exasperated with him. "It was dangerous, risky, and completely irresponsible Harry!" she had exclaimed while frowning at him. All of a sudden she was teary-eyed and hugging him, holding his elbows into his ribs. "Prat." She had muttered at him hoarsely into his already soaked shirt.

"I'm sorry 'Mione." He had muttered into the crown of her head, his hands trapped at his sides in her embrace. "I had to get out, the Lestrange brothers, a Carrow, and a FitzBlack had me cornered. I took Carrow's wand-arm but no way could I fight all of them off." He mumbled into her hair. She calmed down some, and then held him at arm's length, looking him in the eye with determination shining bright from hers.

"Teach me" she said evenly. He had chuckled, he remembered, and placed his own hands on her shoulders, and said "Of course 'Mione." Before giving her a friendly embrace again. If Ron had walked in on the scene, he likely would have blown a gasket. While he had turned into an alright fighter, he was by no means more mature. He still considered Hermione 'his' and Harry, out of respect to his first friend, and not wanting to deal with a sulky Ron, never advanced on Hermione as more than a friend. He was mature enough to realise that his own fear of ruining a perfectly good friendship with Hermione also played a part, but he convinced himself it was for the best.

It made no difference that Ron grew up in a poor family and knew Harry was his Lord, who had paid for his and his and his sibling's education at _Hogwarts_ of all places; his disrespect towards Harry had yet to find a limit when he was jealous or sulking. Harry found Ron's lackadaisical treatment of him both refreshing, and in recent years annoying. Sure, Ron treated him like ' _one of the guys_ ' but so did plenty of people who also respected him and his accomplishments.

Lord Harry James Potter had claimed his title at the age of eleven with the help of Albus Dumbledore, and was made aware of his responsibilities throughout the month before attending his first year at Hogwarts and also throughout his schooling by Professors and his friend Neville.

Harry slipped into fond memories of his younger self for a moment while the cool Scottish summer breeze blew his light cloak about. He remembered a younger Neville fondly; one of his first links into the higher society of the wizarding world, and of the escapades the two lordlings had found themselves getting up to.

#####

Neville was a shy boy at eleven, slightly chubby, but he was relieved to make a fast friend in Harry in the first month of school after Harry retrieved his Remembrall for him, and brought it to him that evening before curfew. Neville may have been introverted, but he was well versed in the dealings of his house, House Longbottom, and his ally's house, House Potter. Harry learned quickly that while he was polite, he did not have the training Neville had in etiquette and the Pureblood traditions common in the Wizengamot. That training was given to him over Christmas break that year when he asked the Headmaster for it, and a tutor was sent to No.4 to teach him over the summer months by Albus.

Needless to say, the Dursleys were unhappy, but cowed once the realised that a wizard would be visiting daily, and would see if they had been mistreating Harry. Returning to Hogwarts for his second year was a young Lord Potter, polite, friendly to all, yes even Slytherins, and ready for the attention his status would bring.

Harry's Hogwarts life had been quite eventful, even considering the other British magical schools. Albus Dumbledore had provided excellent protection to Harry and all of the Hogwarts students, even as these bad times were upon them even before Harry had been born. Bearing the title The-Boy-Who-Lived was no easy task for the young Lord. His mother's protection had thrust him even further into the spotlight of the wizarding world than the young Lord was ready for. His first visit to Diagon Alley, as the large metropolis had affectionately been known, still sent shivers down his spine. It seemed like the tens of thousands of magical folk who lived in Diagon Alley and its surrounding 'Alleys' and suburbs were there waiting to welcome him. It had taken 2 hours to get to Gringott's. That was also the first of many attempts on his life.

A sharp crack, an explosion, and two green bursts of light was all that Harry remembered of that day past lunch time. Dumbledore escorting him had been a good idea; there had been three deaths in the crowd from the suicidal Death Eater from the explosion and curses before he was brought down by a nasty Reductor curse to the shoulder. That was the last time he went into the Alley without at least two guards, and under an invisibility cloak. His visits would be late in the evening when the crowds for shopping would die down, and he was under one, or maybe two Notice-me-Not charms, keyed so only his friends and protectors could easily recognise him.

When he had woken the day after the attack, Dumbledore had explained everything to him. How he was famous for ending the Dark Lord Voldemort. How people adored him for it. He was informed of the last war Voldemort had brought to wizarding Britain, and the thousands lost in it. It was explained how the majority of the Pureblood's thought about Muggleborn witches and wizards. How they believed Muggleborns were 'dirty', and called them 'Mudbloods' and other derogatory terms. It was explained how many of the 'dark' families and branch-families escaped Azkaban by bribing the Ministry, and pleading being under an Imperious. Once safe, it didn't take long for attacks on the wizarding schools teaching Muggleborns to begin.

The idea was that if the 'Mudbloods' couldn't be taught in any of the schools, and then they couldn't fight back as easily. Muggleborns went from being taught at all 20 schools of magic in Britain, to only 5 in 10 years. The schools couldn't keep repairing and paying for damages and deaths on the school grounds. It restricted almost 75 Muggleborn witches and wizards to only a choice of the top 5 best and most expensive schools, which many couldn't pay for. Scholarships were put in place, paying fifty percent of the tuition for these schools, but again it was still far too expensive.

Dumbledore explained many things to him that day, how the Purebloods worked, how many of the 'dark' Pureblood families had branch-families. Normally called FitzGoyle, FitzBlack, or Fitz-Whatever, meaning it was a high standing family very closely or directly related to either House Goyle, or House Black, or House Whatever. These families were always inferior to the 'Main' family, but were normally treated like adopted siblings or cousins. They could never inherit from the 'Main' family, but they often supported each other like brother or sister. Dumbledore said there were several dozen of these families, often with five of six competent or dangerous wizards in each 'Main' and 'Branch' family, who had been allied with Voldemort and were not happy about his demise and wanted vengeance and to carry on his war.

They still fought to have Muggleborns made into servants for them, but less strategically now. Gone were the well-timed attacks on large numbers of Muggleborns and 'blood traitors', now only short, violent and almost useless attacks on one or two witches or wizards, normally with the offender being caught and a life-sentence in Azkaban being issued. However, there was the occasional well-planned assassination of a Muggleborn or 'blood traitor' who spoke too loudly against them.

By the time Dumbledore was finished explaining, young Harry had many questions, but as it was late, kept them for later.

' _Probably doesn't want to scare me more than he has already_ ' he had thought. Harry was not a dull boy; he knew Dumbledore had not told him everything; however he was very overwhelmed by these revelations all coming so close together. He trusted Dumbledore, although he was wary of how he would be used by him later in life. Albus had insisted on Harry learning all he could about Magical Britain before he entered school in four weeks time. Visits by some Professors who knew his parents and one or two close friends of Albus' were arranged, where Harry would learn about Magical Britain. He was given small introductions into how the Government worked, called the Ministry, some information on Aurors, and introductions to some of the sports and subjects, and even a quick tutorial by Albus on how to cast some basic spells.

Thankfully, Harry was right to trust Dumbledore. Several attempts were made to try to get into Hogwarts to harm him; all were prevented thanks to Albus. While he was against killing the offenders, they likely never forgot how strong his stunners or reductors could be, or how impenetrable his shield spells were. Albus would be constantly preparing him for a war that many said would never come, however he was glad of this, because when the war did come, it was Hell on earth. Literally.

It was found that Voldemort had somehow been resurrected. He had a hideous, grey, homunculus body, inhabited by his disjointed soul. Apparently, he had used a dark branch of Soul magic to keep himself alive after death, and re-arranged his soul after dying so that he could be brought back. During his roaming as a spirit for nigh on sixteen years, he became aware of an even darker magic that had been lost. He sacrificed his weakest or useless followers to summon real, live demons. Large, hulking, red, gorilla-like beasts with snake like scales for skin, bright yellow slitted eyes, a maw of fangs, black claws and horns. Most were seven foot tall, ran on all fours at high speeds, and could rip a man limb from limb as if he was paper. Basically they were Werewolves on steroids. They were also sentient, to a degree. They rarely turned on the Death eaters, though it did happen. Their skin was impervious to most Magicks, thankfully however they were extremely easy to ward against. Most people knew of the Dementors of Azkaban, but none asked where they came from. Everyone just knew they couldn't be killed, didn't age, and answered to the Ministry. These beasts came from somewhere similar to the Dementors, which had also been summoned long ago using a branch of Demonology. When these demonic abominations came, allied by Dementors and Death Eaters, slaughter truly began.

When Voldemort brought war back to wizarding Britain for the second time, there were no neutral parties. Dozens of families flocked to his banner, and the many, many previously neutral families quickly aligned with the Light, Albus Dumbledore and Lord Harry Potter. None of them wanted to be of the side of a mad-man who could summon demons.

Within weeks, tens of thousands of magicals were dead, and millions of muggles. The Death Eaters used some old rituals found in ancient family grimoires, adjusted and scaled up, which caught all the natural magic in an area, bar whatever was in a witch or wizards body already, compressed it into a tiny area the size of a grain of sand, and released it all at once. The original purpose of these rituals was to gather tainted or dangerous magical radiation from an area and slowly filter it back into the environment as 'safe' magic. However, through some perverse editing and adjustment, the methods were recreated in reverse accompanied by an explosion comparable to a muggle nuclear bomb. While magicals and muggles alike died in the explosion, the radiation afterwards was completely safe, even _healthy_ to live in for a magical. Every person in magical Britain, Northern France, Iceland and Ireland who had a magical core now found themselves getting significantly stronger.

These explosions could be warded against quite easily. After all, the Magical world in general may be ignorant of the muggle capabilities to destroy them with a single bomb, but the Department of Mysteries weren't. They researched muggle weapons and actively experimented in ways to defend against them. Transfiguring the bombs would work, but what if the explosion went off before it was seen? So, the wards in place across Magical Britain saved the lives of ninety percent of the population from the explosions. The problem was that now these ward nets were basically useless against the combined Demon and super-powered Death Eater forces. The Ministry buildings and all of the Magical towns in England and Wales and Southern Scotland fell to Death Eater rule in days.

This radiation helped magical cores develop beyond what was thought possible. Suddenly people who previously couldn't even fire a stunner without passing out could demolish buildings with ease. Old wards became easy to over-power and break, and new wards were nearly indestructible. Complex rituals and spells, such as the Patronus Charm became much easier to master, and old powerful Magicks and spells which had fallen out of use due to weaker witches and wizards were being used again.

While the magicals thrived, the muggles died. The explosions and radiation were explained away by the rest of the world as nuclear testing gone horribly wrong, or a terrorist attack, or both, and the British Isles and Ireland were evacuated of all muggles. The explosions only covered Southern England and most of Wales, with little else surviving between the blasts radii. Similar rituals were stopped in Northern England, and all of Scotland, bar the island of Azkaban. The radiation spread far and wide almost instantly, either changing the natural magic in the area or replacing it with something stronger, resulting in a few injuries when witches and wizards accidentally over-powered spells.

These explosions also had the fortunate effect of making most of England Unplottable, meaning that Muggles wouldn't be snooping around the war-zone that is Magical Britain. Britain was almost wiped off of the map to the muggles. Satellite imagery came up as either blank or full or static, planes that flew over 'Britain' never returned, and soldiers and scientists, even fully-clad in radiation-proof suits, died within days after a week or two of exposure to this radiation. This tragedy shocked the outside world, both muggle and magical, to the core. Many muggle governments were on edge at the news of Britain, but ultimately no conflict arose. The magical governments grew more and more wary as reports kept coming in from the decimated country. An island as large as Britain, almost completely Unplottable, and full of thousands of magic-users who could each take down a hundred trained men... The results of the magical civil war in Britain would affect the globe.

The only reason that the Light had survived the initial attack was thanks to Albus Dumbledore. Albus had seemingly thought of everything. A resistance movement, The Order of the Phoenix, was in place to prevent as much damage as possible. Wards had been thought up to prevent access to an area if they bore the Dark Mark, and now that warding was so much stronger, it took not even a week after the explosions for all of Scotland to be covered in huge ward schemes stopping the entry of Demons and Death Eaters.

One thousand wands strong, the Order prevented all major attacks on Scotland and Northern England by themselves. Hundreds died in the first two weeks defending the unprotected border, and reclaiming land when the wards fell. They were many; however each of Voldemort's inner circle could easily kill twenty without breaking a sweat. They were weak fighters, but strong of heart, they had trusted Dumbledore when he said war was coming, and made the ultimate sacrifice to protect their families.

Upon news of the Dark Lords return, many of the Light and previously Neutral families did not panic. They did not take their children from Hogwarts and flee; they brought their families to Hogwarts and offered their wands in service. It took months for most families to safely escape Death Eater reign, but once they were across the border, they were quickly accepted into many of the magical towns. All the able-bodied were soon put to work as response teams, and many safety measures were in place in the case that a ward was brought down. There were two hundred trained witches and wizards on standby at all times to react to a ward falling and Death Eaters swarming in.

The Demons Voldemort had summoned were soon useless, as they had completely obliterated every non-protected house in England, Wales, and Ireland, and now could not enter Scotland as the wards to confuse them were exceptionally easy to craft. They quickly turned on their handlers, decimated a few hundred of Voldemort's weaker minions, and were promptly killed off and harvested for materials by the Death Eaters. The odds quickly evened out, as the super-powered Death Eaters fought the super-powered defenders to a stalemate each battle. Harry was constantly at the fore of every battle. He was their rock, their Hero. Albus, in his old age and frailty after the initial battles, passed in his sleep not a month after the second Great War began, but not before telling Harry of his destiny.

A Prophecy had been foretold about him and Voldemort. A Prophecy which stated that Harry had the power to defeat the Dark Lord, and that only he could kill him. How he could never _really_ live until Voldemort was dead. How he was the foretold Chosen One and that Voldemort was scared of him. How he was the last piece of Voldemort's puzzle, and the only link left to him. He was also told of the piece of Tom Riddle living in his scar. Albus explained to him that he might need to be killed before Voldemort could be killed, unless the soul-piece was removed. This had shaken Harry's resolve, however he knew exactly how cruel and evil Voldemort was, and he would do what was right if it was necessary.

Albus was the proverbial posthumous figurehead for the older generation of witches and wizards who initially doubted Harry. The younger generation saw Harry as the poster-boy for this war, the young, dashing, _single_ , Lord Potter leading the charge in battle.

Voldemort had been absent from every major fight or battle which Harry had been involved in, and had simply stayed behind his lines of minions and summoned more beasts in the initial fights, and when the demons were ineffective, disappeared from the later battles all together. Harry and Voldemort would meet in battle perhaps once or twice per year, and it would always end in a stalemate between the two. Harry had his fair share of scars from these and other battles, along with his childhood marks, but never had he been grievously wounded by another Death Eater other than Voldemort. He was always able to slip away from a lost battle, no matter how difficult or impossible the odds seemed. It was like no-one could fatally hurt him bar Voldemort...

Five years of fighting later to 2004, we find a war torn Harry standing on his hill in Scotland coming back from his recollection of his school years at Hogwarts. A sudden stronger burst of wind brought him out of his thoughts suddenly, as he looked towards the sky as it darkened, signifying rain for the evening. A curse and a swift turn on his heel later, Harry was gone without a sound.

#####

Harry reappeared before his childhood school with nothing but a 'pop' with his arrival. The large town of Hogsmeade was behind him. All the Light's Pureblood, Halfblood, and Muggleborn families had taken up residence in the village shortly after Voldemort's return, so the 'village' quickly became a large town with the influx of people. People there lived a fulfilling life. They had the luxuries they would have had in the Alley or any of the other magical towns across Britain, and were safe behind the almost impenetrable wall of wards now in place around Scotland. Most if not all of these families offered up one or two fighters to the war.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood before him on its hill. New additions had been made over the previous 5 years, and while Space-Expansion charms helped with the space now required inside the castle, they could not accommodate all of its occupants.

A barracks had been attached to the castle, the Greenhouses dug up, moved, expanded, and replanted to help with the large amounts of potions needed, two new towers were added around the barracks for military needs so the fighters could be separate from the children in the castle, a mess hall built for the soldiers, a whole, previously unused, wing of the castle was repurposed to teach new recruits to fight, and to allow the soldiers to train without incident. Overall, the castle had gained only an extra thirty percent in size; however this section was simplistic and heavily militaristic in style, no talking portraits, no moving staircases, just bare walls and hard stone.

Harry cringed as he just remembered he was several days late on his arrival. It was not the first time this had happened, far from it, it had happened almost every other scout mission he took, but he had never been gone for so long before, nor was he ever as late. The castles residents had expected him back in one week, considering his usual pace, and he was already seven days and a few hours late in returning. He wiped a hand down his face and sighed heavily to the amusement of the guards on the gate in front of him. The guards respectfully tried to hide their laughing, but did nothing to hide their smirks, as they knew the fate that awaited him back at the castle. Damn, it was likely the whole of bloody _Hogsmeade_ would hear him being yelled at; he was surprised he wasn't a laughingstock at this stage.

"Could you light your wand for us please, Lord Sorcerer?" One of the heavily smirking guards asked him. That was a new thing as well. Something the higher ups came up with when he wasn't there. Wizards and witches were granted titles now based on station and power. With the magical radiation basically super-powering everyone, feats of magic now held more sway than blood purity in the Light community. It was never discriminatory, but the higher rank you were, the higher the respect you held. Not _him_ though. No, Lord Sorcerer Harry James Potter, the most powerful wizard in all of Great Britain bar none, the youngest Sorcerer in the ranks, and he got gate-guards laughing at him every time he came back late. Of course he would hate it if the treated him like a God-on-Earth too, he would pick cheeky guards over fangirls any day of the week.

Harry flashed the tip of his wand bright blue for a half-second for the guards to identify his magical signature. With the natural magic in the air now being more responsive to any wizard's magic, effectively boosting everyone's power by quiet a substantial amount, previously high level detection spells became common detection spells. Ten years ago all they did was weigh your wand to see if you were who you said you were, checking every person's magical signature when they passed the entrance to the Ministry of Magic would be ludicrous, now it was common procedure. You can't fool a magical signature with Polyjuice.

The cheeky guards waved him in, and he marched to his inevitable demise in the castle. He began steeling himself on his walk up, it took about fifteen minutes carriage ride to make it to Hogsmeade from the castle, so he had perhaps thirty minutes, maybe a bit more to think up a good excuse as he quickened his pace towards the main door of the castle. He couldn't believe himself, had he lost all his pride? A rhetorical question he knew, but all the same he felt his neck start to sweat from the anticipation.

When the open doors greeted him in the distance, he was ashamed to leave out a large sigh of relief to not see a bushy-haired brunette in uniform with an electric blue sash there waiting for him. He was a little sad he had no warm welcome, but he was terrified that they thought him dead. Knowing Hermione, she might just kill him for making her think he was gone forever. Another soft smile crossed his face, similar to his one for Neville, as he began to think of his first female friend.

#####

The know-it-all brunette from their first meeting on the Express had matured into beautiful young lady, prim and prudent. She had considered herself awfully important to be attending _**the**_ Hogwarts as a Muggleborn, a feat which was rare in that time in 1991. Perhaps three Muggleborns entered per year into the prestigious school.

However, this was not always a good thing, as Hogwarts did not discriminate at all, and just as many Dark families attended as Light. The Light side had more variety, Abbot, Bones, Longbottom, Potter, Patil, Thomas, Macmillan, Turpin, and Boot to name just a few of Harry's 'light' classmates. However, the 'dark' families' banner flew just as high, but with less variation. Crabbe, FitzCrabbe, Goyle, FitzGoyle, Malfoy, Nott, FitzNott, and a FitzBlack also, just in his year alone. There were few of the 'branch' families outside of the Slytherin table, just as there were few 'Dark' names outside of it too.

Hermione considered herself both privileged and worthy of attending Hogwarts. Her confident, mightier-than-thou attitude lasted all of a month before she was close to tears whenever a Slytherin even looked at her. Ron, the bloody prat, didn't help much by ridiculing her, a fellow house-mate. Harry felt sorry for her; he believed her bluster and confidence to be a facade to help stop herself from being overwhelmed by her newfound situation. He may have been in a similar situation if he didn't have the assistance that he had before arriving to Hogwarts.

On the night of the Halloween Feast, she did not attend, and Harry became worried. All students were required to attended the evening meal, as well as any important feast, like this one. When Hagrid, red-faced and panting, lumbered into the hall and made his way up to the Headmaster and whispered none too quietly that he had encountered a troll which had obviously been baited onto the grounds by some of the students Harry got a sinking feeling in his gut. His gut sank lower when a select few of the high year Slytherins had dark smirks on their faces, quickly hidden behind goblets or pieces of dinner.

As soon as he could, Harry made his way silently from the Great Hall unnoticed in the clamour of the evening, feigning a stomach ache. He made a mad dash for the main door, and out onto the grounds. He quickly jogged down to the Black Lake to a spot which he knew Hermione frequented to do homework uninterrupted. Not even the library was free of Slytherins.

When Harry had spotted her scattered books and some heavy footprints in a patch of mud nearby, his ' _bad feeling_ ' moved straight into panic. His frantic search of the surrounding copse of trees, separate from the Forbidden Forest showed some promise, as yet another notebook was found. He reasoned if he found the troll he could see if Hermione was safe or not, and if he found Hermione he could get her back to the castle relatively quickly.

A short five minutes later found him face to face with a terrified and sniffling Hermione Jane Granger. Her waterworks truly started when she realised that no-one goes into the copse of tree for no good reason and she quickly deduced he had been searching for her when she saw he was carrying her notebook. She quickly latched on to him, sobbing and quietly thanking him while simultaneously telling him how she had ended up running when she saw the troll lumbering towards her spot by the lake, and how she watched it toss her things about. She had run when it looked in her direction, and she hadn't moved because she had heard it follow her. Her sobbing into his robes and clinging to him eventually brought upon them a scorched, angry troll which was surprisingly stealthy in its natural habitat of the light, mountainous forest.

A short, loud bellow was all the warning the two had before they were charged by a ten-foot, seven tonne mountain troll. It quickly shortened the hundred foot distance between them to a scant twenty foot in a matter of seconds with its long, hefty strides. It ploughed through the light scrub before it, and didn't look to be slowing down.

" **Run!** " Harry had yelled as he shoved her out of the range of its massive body, while he himself did the best he could to avoid its enormous club. He last saw her stumble backwards over a high root and fall out of sight of the troll, just as it clipped Harry's left shoulder with its club. White-hot pain flashed through all his left arm and shoulder as he spun and landed on his right side, jarring his injured half, but he managed to not black out. Its charge brought it past their previous location by several dozen feet, with it looking confused as to why there wasn't human-flavoured jam covering its club.

Harry, more out of fear for his life than anything, fished out his wand from his robes and sloppily slashed wordlessly with it in front of him while pushing as much magic as he could into it as if warding off the troll. He felt a surge flow through his right arm as the troll turned thirty feet in front of him, and locked on to him immediately, a dark look in its eyes. A flash from his wand signified a spell of some sort, which the troll winced at and shielded its face with an arm. Harry, weakening, felt hopeless. He only hoped Hermione had made it back to the castle.

As the troll recovered from the flash of light from the, apparently, non-existent spell, and lowered its arm from its ugly misshapen face, its lips curved into a sick grin as it took a slow step towards the downed Gryffindor. Harry's internal thoughts at this stage resemble something along the lines of ' _OHSHITOHSHITOHSHITIMSODEADOHSHITOHSHIT!'._ This was understandable in the circumstances.

A tiny crack, like a twig snapping, stopped its movement. It looked around in confusion and trepidation at the noise. A second, much louder crack, startled it tremendously, as it still didn't know from where the sound was being made, it came from all around. A third, almost thunderous, crack made it stop its search immediately, and while it craned its neck upwards several cracks and moans of splitting wood could be heard by it from above. It spotted the source of the sounds just in time for it to see the last thread of wood and bark holding a large, thick branch in place break.

The troll had enough time to widen its eyes humorously large, before being smashed in the face by a branch twice as large as its club falling from twenty feet above its head. It was blatantly dead. If the force of the branch hitting it wasn't enough evidence, its caved in cranium slowly being surround by a red puddle was definitive proof of its demise.

Harry stared on in shock during all this. From his viewpoint, it was obvious what was going on. He was in the correct position to both hear, and see the branch fall. The troll's position under the branch was what gave the illusion of the sound coming from all around, Harry had no doubt if the troll had been a little more to the right, left, front, or back, he would have heard it and Harry would be the pancake, instead of the troll. A short cry of shock brought Harry out of his thoughts.

There stood his Head of House, along with a teary-eyed, bushy-haired witch, both stood stock still and amazed at what they saw. An eleven year old boy had brought down a troll. Never mind about luck, or a fluke, or the fact that trolls weren't especially smart to begin with, adult witches and wizards who had _trained_ to hunt trolls would have difficulty bringing down a troll this size. Minerva McGonagall was unsure herself whether she would need much help or not to bring down such a beast. Harry slowly got back to his feet, mindful of his left arm and shoulder.

"So, is the feast still on? I'm famished after that." Harry had stated far too cheerfully, with a cheeky smile adorning his dirt-covered face. His last conscious memory was of a bushy-brown mop of hair invading his face, arms encircling him in an embrace about his shoulders, and blinding hot pain in one of said shoulders.

Waking the next morning to the white ceiling of the infirmary, Harry was momentarily confused before it all rushed back. His shoulder felt fine now, and the first thought in his head had been about how Hermione reacted to basically knocking him out from a hug.

'Not too badly, I hope...' Harry said to himself mentally, cringing internally encase she did take it badly, he didn't want things to be awkward between them, she seemed nice and level-headed, if a bit bookish. Being bookish wasn't a bad thing; it was just that Harry learned more by doing than by reading. He fumbled on the bedside locker for his glasses and got them on his face just as Madam Pomfrey exited her office, looking at him specifically and motioning for him to stay silent. Harry looked about in confusion; he didn't think anybody else would be in here with him. His eyes fell on the bushy-haired brunette tucked into the bed to his immediate right, sleeping quietly. He smiled softly; a slight redness tinted his cheeks thinking that she stayed there all night to make sure he was okay. The Nurse smiled conspiratorially at him, and winked, mouthing 'All Night' to him cheekily. Harry blushed brightly at her implication, silently pleased she was that concerned for him.

Harry woke Hermione shortly afterwards, seeing it was time for breakfast by the clock on the wall for patients unable, or too young, to perform the _Tempus_ charm. She sleepily rubbed at her eyes and gave a cute yawn ' _Cute?! No way did I just think_ _**cute**_! _The potions must not have worn off yet._ ' before fixing her gaze on him. Instantly, Harry smiled brightly and beckoned her to get ready.

"Come on, slow poke! Breakfast has already started, if we don't get there soon, Ron may well eat the lot!" Harry's attempt at levity, to brush off the previous night, obviously worked as Hermione smiled back at him just as brightly even if there were tears in her eyes at the same time. She nodded enthusiastically, sniffed a bit and wiped her eyes; her smile not faltering before latching on to him for a quick hug, and swung herself from the bed. They forever fondly referred to that night as 'The Troll Incident', and few knew the whole story, only that Harry and Hermione first became friends after Harry saved her from a troll. He had received a one hundred point penalty for leaving in search of a missing student without a teacher, and a one hundred point reward for his bravery publicly by Dumbledore that evening. Professor McGonagall could barely keep the smile from her face as she berated him, many times referring to him as ' _just like his father_ ', which, from Professor McGonagall, he considered high praise.

#####

Future Harry felt himself snapped out of his recollections in the main entryway by an incredible cold shiver travelling the length of his spine. He froze in place, screwed his eyes shut, and slowly waited for Mount Hermione to explode. When silence greeted him, he knew he was in even more trouble than he thought. His eyes peeked open; he slowly turned in place, while unconsciously hunching his shoulders to protect himself more. By the time he completed his 180 degree turn, he was sweating bullets. He saw a group of colourfully robed people in front of him, none looked pleased.

Neville wore fine black robes, signifying his station as Lord Longbottom. The females on his left and right, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones respectively, had dark green and white robes, signifying apprentice healers. The teachers present, McGonagall, Flitwick, Lupin, Sprout, were dressed in fitting attire for the Headmistress and Deputy Headmaster, and Professors of Hogwarts. Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye wore fine black robes with a yellow sash, representing a Sorcerer, the highest rank achievable in the new hierarchy. The rest of his friends, the two youngest Weasleys, his bushy-haired friend, Daphne Greengrass, Padma Patil, and Luna Lovegood, wore the normal uniformed attire of the Light's soldiers. Ron and Padma wore sashes of purple for tacticians, and Luna wore a pure white sash to show her abilities as a Seer. Hermione's electric blue sash drew the most of his attention; however Daphne's crimson one did an admirable job too.

Neville greeted him with a sad frown, clearly disappointed in his inability to even let them know he was alive and well. Luna Lovegood's normal dreamy smile was replaced by a clearly concerned look, wrinkling her normally smooth forehead. Ginny Weasley stood to the side of the group, red-eyed from crying, and she looked ready to burst into tears at any moment. Ron looked half-mad, half-annoyed. Probably because he was missing dinner, and had to listen to the girls worry about him all week. He was definitely in a sulking mood it seemed, just _great_.

Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott were both relieved to see him, yet just as disappointed as Neville it seems, and both were siding with Neville in all of this and had stood to his immediate left and right. Padma Patil, one of the best strategists in the castle, above even Ron and Hermione, gave him a look that just screamed _'I told you so!_ ' She had told him quietly before he left that he wouldn't be back within a week, and should plan to be gone longer, make sure everyone knew he may not be back for such a length of time. He had dismissed the notion, as he probably wouldn't be allowed to leave if he had said he would be gone longer than a week. He barely got permission from the Council as it was; his vague description of ' _Going to a safe-house to retrieve a strategic advantage_ ' didn't endear him to any of his peers.

A recently appointed Battle-Mage, Daphne Greengrass stood closer to the middle of the group. She looked relieved, yet obviously she had been worried greatly, he had never seen her look this troubled. He had tutored her directly for some subjects, she had an unnatural affinity for fire spells it seemed, even the malicious Fiendfyre bent to her will without much of a fight. Her recent appointment to such a high rank was by her own merits, however, she ranked just below Sorcerer in station, and Daphne and Harry kept a close friendship, siblings in battle and all that jazz. Not as close as he and Hermione, but closer than most none-the-less, on par with Luna and a few others in his mind.

Luna, in her uniform and white sash, looked particularly worried and confused, though it looked like she wasn't upset with him. Her skill as a Seer had improved in leaps and bounds since the war began. It was theorised that it had to do with the new magic-soaked atmosphere, but whatever the reason, Luna was a much better Seer now. She likely already knew that he was fine, she likely even knew that he would take two weeks to come back. Her look of confusion had him worried though; she also had a perceptive look on her face as if she was trying to interrogate him just using her eyes. With intellect on par with Hermione, he hoped she wouldn't see through any of his mistruths today.

Hermione. Sweet Merlin, did she look angry. She was well beyond pissed, into full-meltdown territory. A slight red-tint around her eyelids told her she had shed a few tears thinking about him, which startled him more than anything else in the room, because Hermione was possibly the strongest person he knew nowadays. She barely cried when she sent her parents away to Australia, possibly for good, and the last time he saw her cry at all was when Fred Weasley was killed, and that was years ago.

The group was flanked by the teachers in the school. Headmistress McGonagall, along with Deputy Headmaster Flitwick stood at the fore of the group, with Professor Pomona Sprout, Sorcerer Alastor Moody, Professor Remus Lupin, and Sorcerer Shacklebolt behind them. None looked happy either; however he saw a twinkle of amusement from Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a full smirk from Mad-eye. Harry gathered his courage, locked eyes with Hermione, and strode swiftly towards his fate, only to be interrupted by a yell from Hermione.

"Harry James Potter! _What_ have you been doing that takes two full weeks!" Harry was startled by her volume and jumped, much to the apparent amusement of Minerva McGonagall, whose shoulders began to shake as she placed her hand on her lips and looked at the floor, trying not to give away her laughter by attempting to pass it off as a coughing fit. Moony seemed amused too, he had said multiple times that Hermione and himself interact in much the same way James and Lily had at their age. Flitwick didn't even try to hide how humorous he found the situation, quietly chuckling off to the side. A quick glance around would have seen many chuckling individuals from the higher years in the school, trying to be quiet encase Hermione's ire turned on them instead.

"U-Uh...Uh...W-Well y'see..." Was Harry's intelligent response. Lord or not, Harry's training was non-existent for these situations, no matter how often he found himself in them.

"Well?" Hermione asked, irritated and still pissed at him. ' _For Merlin's sake!_ ' she thought ' _He hasn't even come up with a good lie!_ '

"W-Well it just took longer than I thought, had to be extra careful not to be caught, place was teeming with Death Eater patrols." Harry said light-heartedly, nervously running the gauntlet through his hair; however it was the wrong thing to say.

" _What?_ " said asked lowly, eyes narrowing at him a tiny bit, as he saw light blue sparks form very gently at her finger tips.

"N-Now 'Mione, don't be mad, I'm fine! I didn't run into any trouble, and I haven't a scratch on me!" Harry placated her nervously, taking a small step back that was instantly noticed by Hermione.

" _Harry Potter!_ Stop lying to me this instant!" was her dangerous reply.

"Honest! No trouble just had to be careful is all!" He tried to calm her as she slowly matched his every back-step with a step towards him, her hands forming more sparks as she made her way to him.

"Then tell me why you look so nervous." Hermione demanded of him, her advance stopped momentarily, only five feet in front of him, well within arm's reach if she took a quick step forward, which he was afraid of.

"W-Well I may have...Apparated...back...to...safety...again..."He replied, with each pause getting softer and quieter until the group had to concentrate intently just to hear him. While the rest of the group had confusion on their faces, the collective thought being ' _Well duh! How else would he get out of England?!_ '

Hermione's eyes instead widened and her mouth dropped open. Her suddenly glowing hand struck his right cheek before he had a chance to blink. This had happened on a few occasions, but never this violently. It was much to his embarrassment that a red-purple hand-print would be left on his face for the better part of a week, as Madam Pomfrey refuse to heal it, dismissing it as ' _A wound from a lover's quarrel_ ' and how it had nothing to do with her, she thought he deserved it anyway.

" _Harry James Potter!"_ Hermione yelled down at him from his position on the floor due to her slap. His surprise at the event led him to dismiss the absence of pain from the slap as shock. He was sure he would feel it later. The group behind were even more confused now, and not a little concerned by her violence.

"Hermione!" Neville admonished her. "What's wrong with him Apparating back to Scotland? You know all the safe houses are secure; he would have been fine with the trip back. That was probably why he took so long too. Was there really a need to be like that?" Neville spoke as he approached to help Harry up and simultaneously calm Hermione down. He was referring to the safe houses specifically set up to travel the length of the country secretly. While they were a bit spread apart for Apparition for even the super-powered wizards of today without the help of wards, there were several reusable Portkeys in each safe house to get you to the next one. Many people didn't trust the safe houses though. Even though only the finest Cursebreakers and Wardsmiths were used to set them up, people felt unsafe travelling that far south. Voldemort still held sway over many of the population's fears.

"No Neville, it isn't safe. Not even remotely safe. I'm honestly appalled at this Harry!" She growled angrily, hands on hips, as she glared down at him. Harry didn't even attempt to move, scared of angering her further, and a little ashamed at his recklessness, and the worry he was likely putting Hermione through.

"Oh come on Hermione, you've been in those houses, they are perfectly safe. I wouldn't be surprised, though, if Harry managed to beat the last record back." Neville smirked; having caught on to what Hermione thought was so dangerous. "So Harry, how many did it take? Did you just beat thirty? We can finally take Finch-Fletchley down off the wall for his thirty straight apparitions if you did." Neville said good-naturedly, trying to lighten the mood as he helped Harry get back to his feet, still under the scrutiny of the Bushy-Haired Demoness in front of him. "You must have led those Death Eater response teams on a wild goose chase if you did" He chuckled.

The rest of the group were looking on as Neville clapped Harry on the back after helping him stand and regain his balance, and the growing audience now looked particularly interested. They had stayed quiet during Hermione's tirade to Harry, lest she focus any of her displeasure on them. She could easily make any of their lives hell, as evidenced by her treatment of the young Lord Sorcerer Harry Potter, technically the highest ranking noble in the castle.

"Yes Harry, please do tell them how many times you Apparated to get back to Scotland" Hermione said, far too sweetly, with a malicious look in her eye as she smiled at him serenely, a complete turnabout from her previous behaviour. Harry began to sweat a bit, the group looked on interested, he knew he couldn't lie about it; Hermione would give him a matching cheek if he did. The rest looked on expectantly, somehow missing the fact that the wizard's cheeks were missing any sign of a slap, let alone a supercharged one.

"One" was all he could get out weakly as he yet again ran his gauntleted arm through his messy hair, a nervous smile on his face. Neville instantly took his answer incorrectly.

"Blimey Harry! There are only twenty three safe houses between North Wales and Scotland! Well done on getting it done on one per house, some of those are easily thirty miles apart." Neville said, thoroughly impressed Harry Apparated such long distances in a short amount of time without E-Z-Apparition wards in place. E-Z-Apparition wards allowed easier travel between similarly warded areas, enabling people to Apparate across the country to get to work without using a large amount of magic. The Ministry had these set up all around the country for witches and wizards to use to travel. They reduced the magic needed to Apparate long-distance by huge amounts, but they couldn't be used any longer. If they were, Death Eaters could Apparate right into them, wherever they were, if they managed to set up a similar ward.

The rest looked on impressed, Ron more interested because now Finch-Fletchley would stop talking about the damn record all the time. Luna and Daphne looked troubled, something about the way Harry said 'One' didn't bode well with them.

"No, Neville, Harry doesn't mean 'One Apparition between each safe house', what Harry means is 'One Apparition' total to get back to Wales id imagine." Hermione ground out lowly, all sweetness gone in the face of what Harry had done. The other looked on gob-smacked. People listening in began talking excitedly. Neville was shell-shocked to say the least.

"Y-You Apparated... Over one hundred miles? At Once?! What the hell were you thinking?!" Neville started off amazed, but ended up shouting angrily by the end. He looked livid, but Hermione was beginning to tear up in front of him so he pulled her into a one sided embrace as she buried her face in his chest. Ron scowled in the background. Hermione gathered herself quickly, and pulled away from Harry.

"Harry, that's _twice_ that this has happened. Why would you be so reckless, we _need_ you to win this war!" Hermione asked him, knowing there was no real answer, sounding sad all the same. Daphne looked on upset; Luna's brow was still furrowed, as if she were not convinced of something.

"Miss Granger you knew he could Apparate over one hundred before?! When was this and why weren't we told?" asked an almost breathless Minerva McGonagall. Age and war was catching up with her, she now looked a lot older than her actual age.

"Remember the Recon squad we lost right after New Years in '02? I was leading; we ran into about 60 Death Eaters, surrounded us quickly and took out the other nine with me. They each gave as good as they got though, took out 30 men before it was just me. I managed another twenty before backup arrived. The Lestrange brothers, a Carrow and a FitzBlack." The others and the surrounding audience collectively paled as they hadn't heard of this. Failed missions were kept quiet and respectful, it was bad for morale otherwise. Still, they didn't know Harry was there.

"I managed to push everything into an Apparition, at the time I was close to one hundred miles south of here, I ended up twenty miles north in a lake." Harry finished with a chuckle. "I took one of my Pepper-Ups and Apparated to the gate, damn guards got a right laugh at me, didn't even check my signature!" He said indignant. "The guards thought no-one except the real Lord Sorcerer Potter would show up soaked and shivering on a January morning." Harry grumbled. This got a few laughs out of the group, a dark scowl from Ron, and an even deeper furrow of the brows from Luna. She had come to a conclusion she didn't like.

"You're lying" Luna called out firmly. The others stopped and gave her a look, Daphne and Hermione concerned, the Weasley duo dismissive, and the staff intrigued. They had learned, bar the two Weasleys, that when Luna said something so seriously, she was rarely wrong. Attention turned back to Harry as he looked surprised and nervous. He attempted to school his facial features, but a narrowing of the eyes from Hermione and Daphne stopped him dead. He was caught.

"You're right, Luna, I'm sorry" Harry said, resigned to his death already. Ron looked positively ecstatic if anything, this meant Harry was going to be the one complained about for a week or two. He could finally relax a bit. The others looked on sceptically. Moody looked solemn, already guessing what he would say. While his strength was amazing, his recklessness was too.

Moody hadn't been that surprised the boy could manage over one hundred miles at full strength, he had seen how strong he was before this war started. If he was correct, then the boy would need a stern reprimand to remind him how vital he was to their cause. The other staff members looked on in trepidation. The others were waiting before they sorted their emotions on this mess. All of them were glad to have Harry home but the implications brought by all these discoveries were far too large to deal with all at once.

"I Apparated from Hogsmeade to the last safe house, the one in Chester, two weeks ago. About two hundred and ninety miles. I walked for two weeks into what were London and Diagon Alley. Then I Apparated back from there to about twenty miles south of here. Just about five hundred miles actually." He stated clearly. He barely got to look towards Neville before he found himself on the floor for the second time that day. This time, however, the absence of pain didn't escape his notice. And his right cheek should be on fire by now; Hermione wasn't gentle with her slap. The answer to his unspoken question came quickly, as Neville was not pleased with the outcome of his punch.

" _Ughhhh..._ " Neville groaned as he cradled his fist. Harry sat up off the ground, and instantly came to a complicated answer. He had found out what his mothers ring does, however at the cost of having to explain it to all his friends apparently. As if he had just noticed, Harry glanced around at all of the shocked faces in the crowds of students and recruits. They had heard and seen what he could do, he was the Light's hero, he went on the most missions, carried the largest success rate, had the largest Death Eater mortality rate, and brought back the most survivors in every mission he went on. He never worried for spies in the ranks, and especially not among the children, but he did not need more hero-worship than he already got.

"Alright you lot, clear off to class, show is over." Harry said firmly. Responses of "Yes milord" or "Yes Sorcerer" were heard all around as the crowd dispersed either into the corridors or the Great Hall, leaving the group of young and old soldiers and teachers alone.

"Harry, what the hell was that?" Asked Neville while his hand was being treated by Hannah, an in-training Mediwitch, as Susan looked over her shoulder concerned. "It felt like I punched a brick wall mate. Plus you don't look bothered by it a bit." Neville stated, none too petulantly, he was rather proud of his physical prowess due to his chubby childhood. Harry quickly noticed Hermione favouring her right hand on her hip, while her left looked to be bruising. Harry was on his feet and fixing her hand before she could protest. While he was not a healer, he could definitely fix bruises and small cuts. Hermione's hand, however, looked like one giant, nasty, purple bruise.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione" he whispered to her as the bruising quickly cleared. Redness tinted her cheeks, and her eyes darted to the group, Luna and Daphne specifically, before looking back at him and nodding, not trusting her voice. A further, deeper scowl by the tall redhead male in the background went unnoticed.

"Alright, lovebirds, enough of that. Tell us what's going on Harry, why or how can you Apparate that far, and why or how can we not hurt you?" Neville asked, embarrassing the two before becoming more serious towards the end. Harry's mind whirred, finally coming to a conclusion he liked, not two seconds after Neville finished.

"We can talk more in my quarters; we will have more comfort and privacy. Besides, I need to change out of my travelling robes and gear before we have a long talk."

 **#####**

 **And that's a wrap. The prologue ends here, its a bit all over the place with flashbacks and backstory packed in(probably too much of it to be honest) and it comes to close to 11,500 words. I may re-do all of this, at this moment in time I think it has a nice flow, but that could change next week. The next chapter shouldn't jump around as much and just focus on Harry and how he interacts with people. Still, I would like feedback on what you think of the story-line, the setting, the style I use, the characters so far(I also apologise for Hermione seeming like a cry-baby drama queen, everyone has moments like that its just I put a lot of them in this chapter, she is just worried about losing Harry, her first friend) and while I may bash Ron a small bit, that will stop eventually. My favourite books are PoA, GoF, and HBP and Ron acts like a bit of a prat in all of these, so that influences my views on him a lot.**

 **Pairings! You will all ask me what pairings I have decided on, and all I can tell you is NOT Harry/Ginny. I don't mind those stories, I just don't want to go that direction. Will this be Harry/Multi? Maybe. Not sure. I will write this in such a way to leave many options open. Will there be more glimpses into AU!Harry's past? Definitely! Not as many as this chapter, but I just wanted to show that Neville and Hermione are some of his closest advisors, as well as Ron, though that may change soon(cue ominous thunder) possibly even next chapter!**

 **ETA on next chapter - 30 days(This could change based on my exams)**

 **Now then, please Review/Fave/Follow/Whatever so that I feel accomplished!**

 **Till next time. - TheMason**


	2. A Hallow Victory

**General disclaimer: I claim no ownership of the characters used in this story, and I claim no ownership of the Harry Potter franchise in general.**

 **First uploaded 20/05/2016**

 **Second chapter is in, bit of explaining, bit of flashback, bit of humour, then it gets quite bloody near the end. Fair warning, the violence described probably warrants an M rating, definitely a T. Kinda shows the type of man Harry is, or at least I hope it does after all its my aim to get across my image of a Harry trained for years and after years of a brutal war.**

 **On with the second chapter!**

 **#####**

The group had situated themselves around Harry's living room in his quarters inside the North Tower off the Barracks. The young witches and wizards, along with Shacklebolt, McGonagall, Sprout, Remus, Mad-Eye, and Flitwick quietly spoke amongst themselves while the room's single permanent resident changed his robes, the topic of conversation mostly revolving around the young Lord.

The North Tower had been built specifically for high ranking officers to reside in. Harry had been given the largest apartment on top of the tower, the entire top floor was his to do with as he pleased, and with complex expansion charms making the rooms even larger, his Quarters were a veritable mansion. The young Lord was just that, a Lord. He was also the youngest Sorcerer the Light had, so he was highly favoured by his peers, and such a prestigious title deserved an equally prestigious set of living arrangements.

A group of expectant faces greeted Harry as he exited his room after changing robes. His shoulders relaxed from their tensed state as he dug a Butterbeer out of a cold cupboard, and flopped into a comfy chair in full view of every other member of his small audience. A quick rub of his tired eyes helped him gather his wits while he steeled himself for the coming conversation.

Harry flicked his empty and now non-metal-clad right hand about and whispered Latin-esque words to silence the room to any eavesdroppers. He fiddled with a short chain around his neck to pull out his mother's ring to show to the room while he tried to find words to explain what was after happening, and how it affected the plans the Light would make in the future.

"Right." Harry began tiredly. "Okay. This ring is my mother's wedding ring." He began, holding up the ring for inspection. He thought it was a good place to start, telling them about what it was so they would realise the significance of the object. A quick glance showed him a plethora of either amused, confused, or irritated faces. Obviously the group didn't see how this was important.

"It was what Dumbledore thought the wards my mother's sacrifice erected were tied to. He wasn't wrong, but he wasn't fully correct. Albus assumed that my mother's sacrifice was Old Magick; he thought she used a spell or ritual that allowed a mother to protect her child using blood Magick. He was right about my mother using Old Magick, but he never knew exactly _what_ she had done." Harry told them with a half-smirk. He was very proud that not even Albus Dumbledore could figure out what his mother had accomplished.

"Mum had been studying Old Magicks to try out-wit Voldemort for a year or two. She had very little success along those lines; however she did discover something very, _very_ special, and very, _very_ powerful."

Everyone was curious now. Even Ron, lost as he was as to why his best mate was harping on about his dead Mum, was interested. Minerva, Mad-Eye, and Flitwick already knew about Lily Potter dabbling in questionable studies to try and defeat Voldemort. Harry stopped looking at the band of gold to meet the eyes of everyone in the room with pride-filled eyes.

"Mum had found the beginnings to an old ritual. Ancient is a better word, I suppose. It even predated the four founders by a few dozen decades, maybe even a few centuries. She didn't have the full ritual, nor did she know _exactly_ what it did, other than that it was incredibly powerful. She started experimenting, and prepared her wedding band for use as a proper vessel for this ritual. The items used weren't particularly rare or hard to find, nor was it long or Dark in nature, up until the final necessary part of the ritual." Harry explained. He had found his mothers diaries and journals in the Potter vault. She regularly updated the entries in the case of her death. He knew that she never understood what was truly necessary for the ritual to succeed, but she had done the final part of the ritual anyway, whether by accident or in a last desperate attempt of success.

"Mum unknowingly used a type of Soul Magick to create this ring's effects." Harry said to them. Many of them paled considerably, they knew exactly how Dark Soul Magicks could get, especially since they knew what Voldemort had done to escape death the first time. "It was rather 'Grey' in nature; however this ring could be incredibly 'Dark' if my mother wasn't so loyal to her loved ones. I know this is confusing, but what Mum did must remain secret, so I won't explain what exactly she did, but let's just say that if she wasn't one hundred percent committed to protecting me, no matter the cost, I can safely say that this ring would not be the godsend that it is."

The others in the room were looking at the ring with suspicion, all bar Luna, who was looking at the ring in awe. Harry knew the best way to describe the ring would be by referencing the old tale which talked of three mythical items. "The three Peverell brothers, the receivers of the three Deathly Hallows. The story didn't tell of three brothers receiving gifts _from_ death, it told of three brothers receiving gifts _because of_ death. The ritual called for the self-sacrifice of the human who performed the ritual. This is how the Hallows were made, through this same ritual, centuries and centuries ago. The cloak's purpose is to hide from death, the ring's is to defy death by communing with souls, and the wand's purpose was to spread death, and dominate others. All of these are linked together; they are what each brother wanted the most in the world. Their father or mother was likely the one who made them for the brothers on their deathbed, what parent wouldn't try to give their son a way to hide from death, or win any duel, or bring back loved ones? My mother died for me, and to power this ring. Lily Potter created the first Hallow in over a millennium, all to protect me and to defeat Voldemort." Harry fell silent while others in the room looked on gobsmacked, joining Luna in her looks of awe towards the ring.

A flash of red streaked across the room towards the expectant Harry, who had seen Moody draw his wand and flick it towards him. Harry saw more than felt his body flying across the room and stop suddenly against the far wall. He landed on his feet, stumbled forward a bit before catching his balance, and looking up at the room again. Harry saw the others staring at him now, some, like Ron, were waiting for him to pass out from pain, while the others gained far more hopeful, excited looks. Moody and Shacklebolt looked downright evil with the twisted smirks on their faces and surreptitious glances passing between the two. They had obviously thought of ways to make Harry do even more work now that he was invulnerable. Harry's mood dropped a bit at that thought.

"I can't use it though." Everyone looked incredulous at that. Harry had just told them that he had a ring that could basically make him Superman, yet he refused to use it. "Why the bloody hell n-"Ron had shouted, red-faced, before Harry had interrupted him firmly with "It must be used as a trump card. If I use it all of the time, I'll never face Voldemort again. He has been like a ghost for the past year, and if he hears that I've found a way to stop people from harming me, we will never face him again except from the sidelines. This needs to be used as a secret weapon to end it all. This secret can never leave this room." Harry finished solemnly.

Most of the room could see the reasons behind this, others, mainly Ron, were clearly unhappy that Harry was deciding not to use the ring to win more battles. Harry knew what he was doing, more would die on their side this way, but Voldemort would be killed. Harry is not a cruel man; however neither was he as kind-hearted as Dumbledore. He knew that men would have to die for him, but he would always respect the witches and wizards who gave their life for the war, performing the ultimate sacrifice. He himself may just need to follow in their footsteps to end Voldemort.

#####

The elder visitors along with Neville, Susan, Hannah, Luna, and the two Weasleys filed out of the room, telling Harry and the remaining two females that they would see them at dinner. Shacklebolt had told Harry that he could spend a month recuperating due to his high risk, high reward trek, but the large black wizard gave Harry a friendly slap on the back before leaving while telling him not to be late for the meeting. Harry simply groaned in response.

Hermione had stayed behind for now, as well as Daphne, both wished to speak with Harry for longer. Hermione obviously wanted to talk about the Apparition and also stayed for a higher detail report on what he encountered on his two week walk. Daphne wanted something similar, but Harry knew she wanted to arrange extra tutoring with her old teacher as well. Harry rose from his seat to get three more ButterBeers. Hermione and Daphne had migrated closer together to chat while Harry got them drinks. His trip to his kitchen had him smirking while remembering his first encounters with the blonde Slytherin Princess that was Daphne Greengrass, and how they became close friends during the war.

#####

After the end of Harry's first year at Hogwarts it became quickly apparent that the young Lord Potter was moving up in the world. Harry accompanied Neville to all major functions, always well-dressed but never extravagantly so, exceptionally polite to all party-goers whether they were Pureblood, Halfblood, Muggleborn, rich, poor, friend or foe, and still very well protected.

Many of these events were mainly neutral ground for wizards, discrimination was still present in the form of snubbing and snarky comments spoken quietly, however there was never violence. Some witches or wizards have been assassinated arriving or leaving, but never during an event. The ramifications of either being caught attempting violence, or succeeding, would result in an immediate besmirching to the family name and all friendly families. It was guaranteed social suicide attempting anything more suspicious than sneezing at these events. Families have been killed for trying to further themselves through murder at some of these parties.

Needless to say, this meant that Harry was safe enough to be left to his own devices during these parties, protected by mutual fear of breaking over 800 years of tradition and etiquette.

Dumbledore thought it would be best if Harry began mixing with the politicians and other high-brass of wizarding society early, to prepare him for later life in a more casual environment. Neville would be his main companion, sometimes Ron if he could make it, to all of these events. Harry interacted very well with the adults at these functions over the Summer and Christmas breaks. Only some of the night was spent conversing with adults, the rest was spent talking with the younger witches and wizards in attendance.

Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott became fast friends with Harry after seeing how close and friendly he was with Neville. A few others like Lisa Turpin and Ernie Macmillan would be regular conversationalists, while other 'Dark' family children would be avoided, not that those children had much to say to Harry and Neville anyway.

Daphne was first met at one of these functions in the summer between first and second year. She was pleasant enough company along with Tracy Davis, even if both were wary of the young Lord Potter. Similar meetings over that summer and other events throughout the following years built a small camaraderie between the four. They had the type of friendship consisting of nodding and smiling while passing in the corridors, and quiet words and jests spoken out of sight of Daphne's more violent housemates.

This had eventually led to casual conversation between the two leading up to Christmas in Fifth year, with Daphne hesitantly asking for tutoring from Harry while Tracy did similar with Neville. Both girls wished for DADA tutoring before the O.W.L.s, and knew both boys were top of the class. Neville and Tracy began dating secretly after the tutoring began, and the two continued dating into Seventh year for a while until they parted on good terms before the war. Harry later learned that Daphne originally asked Harry for tutoring to help Tracy get together with Neville, but had enjoyed Harry's tutoring style and company so much that she decided to ask for similar help with DADA in N.E.W.T year. Their friendship had only blossomed from there.

After the war began and the Greengrasses allied with the Light, Daphne began training in earnest. She saw what Harry could do first hand after a simple scouting mission gone wrong, and while she knew that Harry had been trained by Dumbledore for a few years, she wanted to be on his level. She had been in awe of his prowess in battle for a time, enamoured by his fluid movements and lethal execution of spell-work, until she began to see rapid improvement in her own abilities with fire based Magicks. She entered herself into the Light's recruitment for more specialist soldiers and was quickly seen to be above average in fire Magicks and other combat Magicks. Her potential was quickly put to use as she was immediately classified as a High-Witch in training, skipping the entire rank of Battle-witch. Her tutelage to improve her control over fire eventually led her to her being directly taught by Harry again, who helped her gain Battlemage status due to assisting in teaching her control over FiendFyre.

Status and rank was decided based on feats of magic, due to the extreme effects the new magical radiation had on witches and wizards. It was no small feat to control FiendFyre like she did, and the only person close to having as much, or possibly more, control over their element was Hermione. Hermione's natural affinity for lightning based Magick was astounding; sometimes she even unknowingly generated visible lightning Magick while stressed or angry. This was also the reason her hair was so bushy and wild during her youth, magical static that had caused her hair to stand on end was generated by her body even before the war. Hermione was never the most violent person, and had yet to do anything particularly extravagant or destructive with any Magick, so she remained a High-witch; however everyone knew you didn't disobey her. She was one of the leading three people for the Light in Research and Development of new Magicks, whether it was wards, charms, curses, transfiguration, or even ritual Magicks sometimes.

Daphne had been getting closer to Hermione recently due to how often the two would run into each other around Harry. This simple fact made him happy since he wanted both girls to bond more. Daphne and Hermione were both friends already with Hannah and Susan, and both were very good friends with Luna, but only really started interacting with each other around Harry recently. Now that both girls were warming up to each other, the whole group of Harry's friends were tied together quite comfortably, with very little argument from anybody, bar Ron not wanting to talk to ' _snakes_ ' whenever he got upset.

Hermione was moving herself into the frontlines more recently, and had Harry helping her train up on combat Magick to make her improve. She was 'restless' sitting at a table day after day when she could be making a difference out fighting Death Eaters. Daphne would still ask Harry for some training every once in a while, and Hermione was now almost his protégé with how much training she had recently been receiving, so the two young women had been becoming close friends, much like both witches were with Luna already.

#####

Daphne and Hermione were still chatting to each other animatedly on the couch when Harry re-entered the room after his recollections. The blonde bombshell was smirking and waving her cupped hands in front of Hermione while the brunette was trying to hide her obvious mirth behind her small hand while nodding rapidly, both girls comfortably spread on a couch. Harry raised an eyebrow at the two when they quickly stopped whispering when he got too close and looked at him with mischief-filled eyes at his confused look. He was the butt-end of the joke apparently, but he didn't want to pry into their amusement at the moment. He might corner Daphne later about it; she was always looser of tongue than Hermione about secrets.

Harry handed the women their beverages before looking at the two expectantly from the couch opposite theirs. He knew they had more questions for him; he was willing to answer them.

"Harry, where did you go? You said it was a day or two into England and that you would be back in a week. None of that was true, so where was it you went exactly and how did you know what you were looking for?" Daphne asked of him. She had saved Hermione the trouble of asking; she was there to hear the same thing. He took a small sip of Butterbeer to wet his throat before his speech.

"I went to my old place. The Dursley's old house. Dumbledore was under the impression that I needed to be near the ring and my aunt for the protections to work, so he put the ring in the house with me the night he dropped me off after Mum and Dad were killed. It was buried under the concrete in the space under the stairs. I needed to trek across England to get to there. Two weeks was making good time really; it could have taken much longer if there weren't so many abandoned houses to hide out in."

The girls had grown pallid once they heard of the true length of his journey. They had believed he had simple moved to an old safe house where the ring had been kept safe near Oxford or South Hampton, but he had actually trekked past, or even through, several high traffic areas for Death Eater patrols for a whole two weeks, right past old Central London.

"I kept myself under the cloak ninety-five percent of the time, even while sleeping. I only took it off once or twice for cleaning charms. Even then I hid myself and my signature from patrols. I stayed in a few ransacked Muggleborn homes when I could..." He grew quieter when he thought of the dead families he had seen, and the nursery he couldn't will himself to look into.

"The ring is exceptionally powerful. I found it in Privet Drive, which had been completely shielded from the explosions. The street was rubble, but the house was preserved perfectly, the grass wasn't even overgrown. I had to dismantle everything before I left. Then I walked south for two miles then Apparated back to the foothills south of here. That's it really."

The girls were shocked and frustrated respectively. Hermione wanted to press him for details on the Apparition this time and if it was different, but Daphne beat her to it.

"How do you do it? Is it a different type of travel, or maybe its elemental, like Phoenix-travel?" Asked Daphne quickly, throwing some ideas at him. Hermione grew more frustrated as she already knew his answer.

"I just use normal Apparition but before using my magic I just gather as much magic as I can and _push_ while Dissaparating normally." Harry explained lamely. He scratched his head and avoided the eyes of the two annoyed females in the room. "Albus knew of this ability, and we spent a long time perfecting it. I first received training for it after Fourth year, but we really intensified training it in Sixth year. By Seventh Year I could do it several times per day for small spells, but nowadays I can do it an almost a limitless amount of times if I stick to low-level spells."

"And when you do this magic-pushing thing, what exactly happens?" Asked a very confused and sceptical Daphne. This was the first time she had heard of anything like this. Hermione had known for a while now, ever since she found out about his trip into the lake and Harry's subsequent admission. Hermione was happy to sit back and let Harry explain it to her, Daphne was a trustworthy woman.

"Well, to put it simply, it overloads the spell with magic and results in a very powerful version of the spell. Reductors become Siege-level spells, Stunning spells turn lethal, Aguamenti results in a tidal wave of water, and Incendio turns from gouts of flames into a tornado of white-hot fire. Apparition becomes less accurate but easier to do over very large distances. It really is dangerous in battle though, if I push at a new spell in a fight I don't know what it may do, or if I can even control the spell after I cast it. It requires constant training to keep it useful; however it has saved me a few times." Harry explained, relaxing on the couch with his Butterbeer in hand.

"But even I can feel myself push more magic into spells when I'm angry or even just excited, how is it any different?" The blonde witch pressed on.

"Well, first off, I'm not really forcing more magic into the spell. It feels very different to forcing more magic into the wand to overload a spell, and even Albus couldn't do what I do when I push a spell without exhausting himself. It kind of feels like I'm gathering huge amounts of magic at once then just... Guiding it I guess. I really just push the magic gently in the right direction, and the magic rushes through me, making me feel like I'm pushing magic through myself in huge amounts." He finished lamely yet again.

"We tried to teach others to do it, but most people just ended up frustrated or confused when we tried. Even Albus couldn't do it, and he tried for over two years. He theorised that this may be a power only I have that no one knows about, either by genetics or accident we don't know" Harry explained.

Daphne looked at him in awe and disheartened at the same time. She had always looked up to Harry and his strength, now she found out that she could never equal him; it was slightly upsetting to her. She gathered her resolve; she wouldn't let this stop her becoming the youngest Sorceress ever. Finding out about this power of Harry's gave her even more hope for their side of the war, and more reason to grow strong so she could stand beside him during the final battles.

Hermione hadn't been in the same state when she found out. She always knew Harry was different, and that he was the strongest wizard of their generation, and now he had grown into the strongest wizard in the world. She trusted Harry implicitly, yet she still hated his recklessness. She always scolded him for any dangerous stunts he would pull either during training or a fight. She couldn't bear to lose him, or even to see him harmed at all. He was her best friend, and her first crush. She had been trying extra hard recently in their training sessions, showing him how much she wanted to fight for the Light, to fight by his side in the coming battles. She had finally perfected what she wanted to show him, the spell she had crafted months ago was finally ready to be revealed to him, and she hoped it would impress not just him, but the judges for her Battle-mage application.

"What on Earth made you Apparate so far Harry? Last time it nearly killed you! When will you stop trying to kill yourself?" Asked an exasperated Hermione. Harry grew a small bit uneasy at having to tell Hermione about how often he trained with the long-range Apparition, but he figured if he was in for a penny, he was in for a pound.

"This isn't exactly a recent decision to try to kill myself using un-tested methods of travel." Harry admitted. "I've been slowly getting used to using it by Apparating a hundred miles or so every week or two. I slowly started increasing the distances last year. I knew I could Apparate upwards of two hundred miles, and I just figured that if I could get within two meters of where I want after two hundred miles then five hundred would be safe too. I was wrong, but not dangerously wrong. I've been Apparating to all the border fights for the past six months too, that's why people have been reporting less deaths and more captures. I've been there at most of the fights under the cloak." Harry explained.

The girls didn't know what to think. Harry was an enigma at times like these. He seemed so reckless, but he was also never wrong in his capabilities. Harry never boasted, if he said he could level the castle with ten spells, chances are he could do it in six, but didn't want to appear too powerful. Hermione and Daphne both knew that he was great at omitting the truth, a trait he picked up from the late Albus Dumbledore, but he never lied to their faces. Harry apparently thought himself capable of handling the long-range Apparating on a regular basis; they couldn't really dissuade him from doing it now that he knew it was safe. He was far too stubborn to be swayed now that he knew he could be at any fight anywhere in the country, as long as he knew of its location.

Harry watched as the girls looks shifted from glares of either frustration or exasperation to looks of acceptance and fondness. He knew they weren't very happy with him, but they knew he was saving lives. They couldn't be angry, they were far more sensible than that. Harry dragged himself from his chair to retrieve another set of beverages from his kitchen, and all the while he was _very_ aware of the looks the two women were giving a certain part of his anatomy. He first became aware of these looks when he noticed that both Daphne and Hermione preferred to jog behind him on their runs about the lake. He smirked as he added another point to his imaginary chalkboard on ' _times-the-girls-stared-at-my-ass_ ' scoreboard.

Harry returned to see an almost unnoticeable light dusting of pink adorning the two women's cheeks, reflecting his own flush of pride on his own cheeks. Harry was no slouch with physical training, and he liked to have the results noticed. He handed the Butterbeers to the women and seated himself in his previous seat. He knew both of them wanted to talk training schedules, so he left them to speak first. He had a month off; he simply needed to hear what arrangements the two had obviously come up with during his absence. He smirked knowing that the two had likely spoken at length at how they would divide up his time, and now would play it off as asking him for help he owed to them since he had worried them. The two girls glanced at each other before Hermione cleared her throat to attract his attention. His smirk grew. ' _This may be fun_ ' Harry thought amused, already beginning to channel his late Godfather.

"Harry, I've been working on a spell id like you to see. If it goes well, id like some training to master it. I'll be showing this to the Council judges, so I need it to be perfect. They should be suitably impressed with what I have now, but I want to blow them away. I want to be put in the running for Sorceress title with my presentation. Do you mind helping me say... most mornings for your month off? It's not like you have anything planned, and you do owe me. I thought you might have been captured or even killed for the last few days and-" Hermione was interrupted by a raised hand from a smirking Harry.

"It's alright Hermione; you have me interested in your spell enough to help out more than usual. We had training most weekdays anyway, this won't change much in our schedule for now. And I suppose you want me after dinner, do you Daphne?" He asked, still smirking. Daphne opened her mouth to object, but closed it once their plan had obviously been uncovered, if the smirking Harry was any indication. She nodded silently, a blush covering her face at the embarrassment of being caught trying to book time with Harry before he was even back a few hours.

"Well I'm sorry, can't do evenings, not anymore." Harry clarified. Daphne's face dropped at this, disappointment evident in her eyes. "So I'll just have to have you both at once!" Harry said cheerily. Both women's reddening ears and cheeks showed how they interpreted his words. Another internal mark went on a different imaginary chalkboard labelled ' _Use-innuendo-to-make-the-girls-blush_ '. "Of course, that's if you don't mind sharing, Hermione?" Harry asked the now mortified brunette, too shocked to respond. Another tally-mark went on the chalkboard. "Of course, you would be free for shared morning training too, wouldn't you Daphne? You still have a few weeks downtime left, don't you?" Harry had dropped the innuendo for now; there was a time and a place for the innocent double-entendres. The girls swiftly recovered, however both noticed a very Dumbledore-esque twinkle in Harry's eyes for a split second accompanying a Sirius-esque grin. A recovered but still lightly blushing Hermione responded that she didn't mind sharing her time-slot with Daphne, while Daphne confirmed she had the mornings free to train with Hermione and him.

"Why can't you train in the evenings anymore Harry?" Asked a curious Hermione. She wouldn't have thought that Harry had made any plans for the coming month before he left, but apparently he had.

"It was part of the bargain that let me go on my little trek across Britain. I have to spend more time with the Council, helping them decide and also fulfilling some more of my responsibilities. They say that they have been lenient so far, due to how much my fighting contributes to the war effort, but they said that I must show that I understand my duties as a Sorcerer and a Lord more from now on. That includes nightly meetings with the Council and also maybe teach a class or two sometimes, not just the exceptional students." Harry explained, smirking while eyeing the again blushing duo at the last part.

"So, boring evenings from now on then?" Asked Daphne, now recovered from her second bout of blushing.

"Not really." Responded Harry. "The meetings aren't longer than 40 minutes, usually immediately after dinner, but with the shortening nights there would be no point in training in such a short space of time. Besides, now I get to see both of you in the early morning!" Harry happily exclaimed the last part, knowing that only one of them was an early riser. Daphne looked disgruntled at his jab at her tardiness for getting out of bed, but she slid an unseen smirk at Hermione, who responded challengingly to her rival and comrade. _'More jogging!'_ was the unspoken excited message. This last interaction slipped beneath Harry's radar, he was tired from his journey still, since he had not had a proper night's sleep in two weeks.

When Harry stifled a yawn, both women knew they should give him some rest. It wasn't even time for dinner, yet Harry looked ready for bed. They both rose and wished him farewell, hoping to see him at dinner in an hour. Harry gave the two a sleepy nod, before giving them a half-wave in farewell. The door shut behind the two, and Harry decided a warm shower would keep him awake long enough to eat before heading to bed. Harry started his magical shower before stripping off to hop in. It took twenty minutes for him to feel suitably relaxed before getting out again. His normal ablutions finished, Harry dressed in his usual Sorcerer's black robes along with yellow sash before heading to the Mess Hall.

#####

Harry's entrance to the Mess Hall was met with a small applause, many awed looks, many smirks from a lot of the older recruits who had heard of the encounter in the Entrance Hall with Hermione, and some confused glances at his cheek by the same people. A small, embarrassed wave from the Lord Sorcerer calmed the applause but not the looks from the crowd. Most went back to their food and discussion, however due to some of those conversations being about him, not all attention was diverted from him during his walk towards the top table towards his group of friends.

Harry plopped down between Luna and Seamus Finnegan, both already in animated conversation with Daphne and Ron respectively, however attention quickly shifted to him as soon as he sat down.

"Ah! Here's the man o'the hour!" Seamus exclaimed slowly. "So Harry, what d'ye think of them refusin' to put ye on the wall?" Seamus asked in his Irish drawl. Harry's confused look led to Seamus explaining while Ron refocused on his meal, glancing back up at intervals to look strangely at the two. "The lads are sayin' that since ye didn't use the safe houses ye don't get put on the wall Harry." Harry's confusion was resolved as Ron snorted derisively. A quirked eyebrow led to Ron explaining himself too.

"Finch-Fletchley won't shut up about it and now he has a troop of people saying that you can't be put on the wall for least Apparitions on the safe house run. They say you need to actually _use_ the safe houses, not just Apparate _twice_ that entire distance in _one_ Apparition." Ron finished with a scowl and a dark look at Harry. Ron had been like this for a while. Harry really did like Ron, he was his first male friend, but he really could be a sulky prat at times.

Any time Harry showed a glimpse of how powerful he was, Ron would get jealous, either because he hadn't told Ron he could do it, or because Ron couldn't do it. Ron would then immediately spill the beans on Harry's abilities to the population of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Ron was by no means weak, but he would never ascend past High-Wizard status. He was already a respected tactician for the Light, however he wasn't magically strong. It had begun two years ago when it became apparent that Ron wouldn't gain a large amount of potential from the new magical environment of Britain. Harry was always strong, something Ron was never happy about, but had kept quiet because that sort of thing didn't really matter, blood and status mattered more. Now though, with magical strength meaning more respect, Ron was almost constantly jealous. It was his main flaw, noticing his own weaknesses far too often.

Harry immediately felt guilty and not guilty at the same time. He _knew_ that if he told Ron about any of his capabilities, the rest of the castle and Hogsmeade would know by morning, so Harry was completely justified for not telling Ron anything. At the same time, he felt guilty that he couldn't tell his first male friend about himself. Ron had changed drastically as a friend. He was Harry's greatest fan when he used his strength to bring one of his relatives back unharmed, but would immediately resort to snide comments or dark looks whenever Harry's strength got him public attention.

Harry felt sad as he realised that Ron really wasn't a friend anymore. Ron had turned into just another critic in the castle. This wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind, but it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Ron was a friendly critic, but a fickle one also. Harry could reflect on that later, for now he had to diffuse the bit of tension Ron had raised.

"Sorry Ron, didn't really think you needed to know I could Apparate a few hundred miles, wouldn't really help you as a tactician, would it?" Harry started jovially, and finished firmly along with a hard look. Ron looked a bit startled but quickly looked back down to his meal with a mutter and a frown after he had been reprimanded. Seamus gave a weak smile and got up to leave while Harry turned towards Luna and Daphne's conversation which seemed to be about helping each other out with some duelling during the following week or two in the evenings. Daphne really seemed to be trying to improve herself, and Luna only looked too happy to oblige.

"Do either of you two know where Hermione is? I might need a bit of help finding her after dinner if she has decided to get some work done before turning in for the evening." Harry asked sheepishly. Hermione was known for being hard to find if she was working, even if her work was Research and Development of new Magicks. This work however seemed to take her all over the castle asking opinions on runes, special laws of transfiguration, charm combinations or even potion brewing advice. The only person who seemed to know where she would be is Luna, or recently Daphne, due to the two girls budding friendship.

"No problem Harry, she's with Professor Flitwick right now but should be back in her room by the time you finish eating. We can all go!" Luna told Harry. Daphne smirked at her eccentric friend's acts, knowing she wanted some time with Harry before the day ended. She knew she would be tagging along, apparently Luna had decided one day that Daphne and her needed to go with Harry together whenever Luna wanted to spend time with him, even though she was perfectly capable of doing it by herself. Whenever she brought this topic up with Luna, she would get a small smirk in reply, followed by Luna getting a distant look in her eyes and a quiet ' _It's a secret!_ ' as the answer.

Dear beautiful, odd, amazing Luna. Daphne had met Luna during Luna's Third Year, during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Daphne had no time for the violent spectacles in the Tournament; she rarely took an interest in Quidditch, why would such barbaric challenges hold her attention any more than the dumb sport? Daphne had seen dragons before, Mer-people were a common sight if you took a boat to the middle of the Black Lake, and many of the beasts in the Maze had been horrific looking, not interesting at all. Luna was just against violence to magical beings and creatures and released a surprisingly serious segment in the Quibbler calling for a boycott on the whole Tournament. The two girls found each other often in the library while everyone else familiarised themselves with the foreign students.

Luna's fixation on Harry was nothing new, as Harry really had been Luna's knight in shining armour so to speak, just like Hermione. Daphne knew the story as it had been retold to her countless times to her by Luna in private, each time getting more and more embellished. Daphne was sure Hermione got the same stories from Luna whenever she went into one of her rants about Harry every once in a while. One day, Daphne had simply asked Harry how he had met Luna, and how they became such good friends. It had been during Harry and Daphne's Fifth Year at Hogwarts, and the question surprised Harry before he blushed and gave an embarrassed smile. He had then gone on to tell her the tale in a rather simple fashion, but the true events were revealed by piecing together both Luna and Harry's stories.

#####

Harry had been returning from visiting the loo on the Hogwarts Express when a certain compartment caught his eye. A small blonde Ravenclaw Third year girl was sitting quietly across from some much older Ravenclaw girls returning to Hogwarts after Christmas. Normally, Harry would pass this off as a set of siblings or just a diverse group of friends, but the smirks the older girls had didn't sit well with the young Lord. Harry decided to hide himself from view and attempt to listen in as best he could. His father's cloak helped with this; along with Harry edging the door ajar with an invisible hand.

"So Loony, how was Yule at the asylum?" The oldest girl asked wickedly, smirking. "On second thought, don't bother answering, I don't want to even guess what you and your weirdo father have been doing for the past few weeks." the girl continued imperiously, getting snickers from her two compatriots. Harry recognised the oriental girl as Cho Chang, a year ahead of him and often seen hanging off Hogwarts Champion Cedric Diggory's arm at any time of the day. Cho's friend Marietta Edgecombe sat beside her, she seemed to be getting much more enjoyment out of tormenting the poor girl. The final tormentor was the most surprising, Seventh year Ravenclaw prefect Annabelle Meakin. Out of all the people in Ravenclaw to pick on younger students, a Muggleborn _prefect,_ the scandal would be huge if this got out.

Harry had seen Luna before, normally at a distance, around either Black Lake, the edge of the Forbidden Forest, or chatting with ghosts or portraits in Hogwarts. The non-living residents of the castle always seemed to be very kind to her, and Harry never really saw her interact with any peers before today. Needless to say, Lord Potter was not impressed at all with what he was witnessing. A small plan popped into his head, and a grin formed on his face. ' _This will be fun..._ ' was what the young Lord thought before readying himself.

"I can imagine you had such fun with your Humdingers and Wifflewobblers and Skretkilters and all sort of other imaginary nonsense. When will you ever _grow-up_ Loony?" Marietta had asked when Annabelle stopped, teasing the girl further and leading to more laughter from the other two. Luna, to her credit, didn't move in the slightest; her half-smile didn't falter, her neck was still perfectly straight, but the small light still in her eyes dimmed. The small blonde threw a small, confused glance at the invisible Harry, before refocusing on a point past the three girl's shoulders.

"Look, even now she's away with the fai-"Cho continued, before Harry's planned interruption. A quick shove to the door and a completely visible Harry strode inside to the shock of all four occupants.

"Luna! Thank Merlin I found you finally, I've been searching everywhere! Would you mind joining...?"At this point Harry threw a confused glance at the other three girls in the compartment. " Oh! I'm terribly sorry, hello girls I didn't see you there my name is Harry." A smiling Harry the stuck out his hand toward the three older witches who, still shocked at Lord Potter's interactions with their victim, took his hand slowly and shook it carefully, each girl slowly feeling a little more dread as the green-eyed young Lord and now recent Dragonslayer seemed to stare through them like they weren't even there.

"I'm sorry Luna; I didn't know you were here with friends. Perhaps you would like to join myself, Ron, Neville, Hermione, Hannah and Susan in a bit? I've told them all about you and they're very eager to meet you! Unless of course, you three ladies wouldn't mind me stealing Luna for a while would you?" Harry asked cheerily, a genuine looking smile still attached to his face. This did nothing to reassure the girls, as his eyes only seemed to grow colder as he continued to speak. The three shook their heads rapidly, not trusting their mouths. Annabelle in particular looked rather pallid at the thought of Lord Potter and Lord Longbottom holding a grudge against her for bullying their friend.

Luna, to put it bluntly, looked like someone had petrified her with her mouth open. She quickly came around when Harry turned back to her with a warm smile and stretched out his hand to her.

"Come on Luna, I'll show you where we are sitting, your _friends_..."with this Harry cast an angry glare in said girls direction "...don't seem to mind too much."

"O-Okay Ha-Lor-Oh..!" Was all the small Ravenclaw could get out before Harry grasped her hand and gently but firmly pulled her from the compartment. Harry carefully slammed the door shut behind Luna, wanting to scare the three one last time, and was rewarded with a jump from them.

Harry's soft tone of voice interrupted whatever Luna was thinking, forcing her to look into his smiling visage.

"Come along Luna, I'd very much like to introduce you to some people." He then proceeded to lead her gently by the hand down two carriages and into an almost-full compartment filled with curious faces.

Harry had heard the rumours of 'Loony' Lovegood and about how she spoke to imaginary friends and talked of make-believe creatures she apparently hunted with her father. Harry put little regard as to whether or not that was true, but whether it was true or not didn't matter, he saw a poor girl getting excluded and bullied and he was having none of it.

Harry then pointed out everyone and introduced them by name, and each person either shook her hand or waved with a smile. Luna, still in shock, casually reached up to brush the shoulder of Harry's robes to most of the compartments intrigue. A small blush accompanied Luna's hesitant answer.

"L-Lord Potter had Wrackspurts on his shoulder... I was just getting rid of them." She finished quietly, almost a whisper. Mixed reactions were had by the group, but a short glare from both Lords quelled any questions. A comforting hand appeared on Luna's shoulder before Harry spoke to her again.

"Thanks Luna. Please, call me Harry. And by the way, make sure if you see any more Rackedspirts around, do tell us so we can be rid of them, won't you?" asked Harry kindly. A look of shock and tears greeted him when he looked into her face. Who was this boy, Lord or not, that he would so quickly accept her as a friend, even though he couldn't see what she did? Why did her eccentricities not matter to him, or apparently, to the smiling compartment? Was this a trap, to get her to open up to them only for them to mock her in turn? A quick look into emerald eyes quickly disproved her of that particular notion.

"It's... It's actually p-pronounced Wrackspurts" She began and finished her correction with a loud sniffle and using her sleeve to dry her overflowing eyes. A smaller pair of feminine arms pulled her into a rib-crushing hug and suddenly her face was buried in bushy hair and a small shoulder. A large, warm third hand rubbed her back gently as she sobbed quietly into the shushing brunette's shoulder. Luna could not have felt any better, if she was to go back seven or eight years she could remember this almost exact situation but with her mother and father comforting her. From that day forwards, Luna would forever stick by Harry and Hermione, no matter the consequences.

At this point, Luna would have no more to say other than that she eventually stopped her tears and then had a lovely ride to Hogsmeade talking to a new group of friends who accepted her almost instantly. Harry's tale would go on to explain that he had cast _Muffliato_ around the female duo so that Luna's sobs could not be heard and she would have more privacy. He had told Daphne that he explained how he found Luna and that she was a little eccentric. Harry said that he told the group that Luna truly saw these creatures, or at least believed she did, and not to mock her for it. The group understood, none of them liked bullies, and so were quick to accept Luna into their group of friends.

Later in life, as Luna grew older, and then the war began, these 'creatures' would be explained as partial visions of different futures. Luna was a weak Seer when she was young, but grew to be an exceptionally strong one after the war began. Luna's visions stopped almost completely in her late Fourth year, no more Wrackspurts or Nargles, just the odd vivid dream of either the past or future. When the war started, Luna became an incredibly valuable asset. Luna could almost subconsciously See the future a few seconds ahead, which lead to a few funny ' _Bless you!'_ followed by an _'Achoo!'_ moments, but also lead to her huge advantage in duelling.

While Luna was never a fighter; her core was never going to be anything more than normal, however her ability to See _what_ was being cast and _where_ it would be going led to her winning almost any duel against even strong opponents. Luna very rarely fought, as she would be completely helpless if she experienced a vision while fighting. These visions had started happening after the war began. They were very often helpful, locations to defend or attack, where to send spies, where to send reinforcements and other such information. She was now recognised and respected as much as either Daphne or Hermione was; due to her saving lives and helping the Light slowly win the war.

#####

True to her word, when Luna dragged both Daphne and Harry up to the visiting staff quarters to Hermione's room, Hermione was indeed just back from speaking with Filius. Harry and Daphne disregarded the fact that Hermione didn't actually tell Luna where she was going. They didn't bother questioning where Luna's knowledge came from anymore; they could guess that she could See where they are whenever she wanted to, but the only real answer Luna would ever give them was a dreamy smile.

Hermione smiled at her three guests while she tidied whatever notes she had been holding when they came in.

"Sit down for a bit, I'll put these notes on mine and Filius' latest experiment away." She said while waving them towards her small set of furniture by the fire, decorated with bright Gryffindor red.

"Oh! Did you manage to use some variant of Gamp's Law to accommodate the massive temperature changes, or did you decide on trying one of the Old Universal Transfiguration Laws for the separating of different temperature items?" Luna inquired excitedly.

Hermione and Luna were quickly bouncing different ideas back and forth as Hermione told her the results of the small experiments she and Flitwick performed or theorised already. Harry and Daphne were quickly left in the dust, while both were good students neither had the level of enthusiasm or knowledge needed to converse with them at such speed. They contented themselves with waiting for the two to realise they had excluded them from their conversation, it was nice to see Luna so lively and focused.

Luna, even after the start of the war, rarely had moments of total clarity. Deciphering what she Saw at any time of the day often left her in a dreamy state if she was alone. The only time visions truly left her was when she was in deep concentration or she thought about a topic or current conversation. She would smile brighter and laugh beautifully if she was concentrating or simply distracted from her visions, however this led to Luna's desire for conversation or work to escape any of her visions, whether they be of death or torture, or simply a man stubbing his toe.

The happiness Harry and Daphne felt when they could again see Luna acting her own age was immense. Hermione obviously realised how focused Luna was, and so kept the bantering high, but eventually Harry asked what he originally came for.

"When do you want to show this spell of yours to the Council 'Mione? I never asked earlier, but I'm meeting with them in the next half hour, will I bring it up for you?" Harry asked kindly. He really didn't want to go in front of his peers with nothing to show for his two week absence, hence finding Hermione to offer his assistance.

"No it's fine Harry, I want to practice it a bit more before mentioning it to the Council, I really want to blow them away!" Hermione's need to please authoritative figures had diminished slightly since the start of the war, but it had not disappeared. She still wanted to impress her superiors, even though she was often working closely with many Sorcerers going into battle, who would often take her advice almost like an order. Being seen scolding the strongest warrior of the Light had made many think her above the rest, never mind her prowess with a wand in recent months.

"Okay..." Harry huffed out in a sigh. He hung his head and slumped his shoulders thinking of the things he will need to do to please the Council after his two week 'vacation' as they are sure to see it. The three others wore amused and vindictive smirks, Harry would be getting his comeuppance after worrying them all week. He pulled himself out of his cycle of self pity and straightened his back.

"I'm off then. Council meeting is pretty soon, don't want to be late... Again." He strode out of the room with a grin on his face, ready to deal with the Council.

The three left behind watched after him with mixed feelings; both amused and exasperated. They knew he was able to look after himself, but they also knew that grin. A certain Dogfather would be proud to see how his godson had turned out, that grin Harry was wearing could only mean trouble for the Council. Trouble was his heritage after all, son of a Marauder, Godson to another, adopted nephew of a third, and killer of the fourth and last.

"Can I join in tomorrow? It sounds ever so fun!" Came the sudden question from Luna. The other girls were not often surprised by Luna anymore, but this was one of the rare instances.

"Why would you say that; what's happening tomorrow?" asked a confused Hermione. She really didn't know what Luna could mean, unless of course she meant...

"Jogging! I know it used to be just you two separately and Harry but now it can be all of us together! Wouldn't that be fun?" asked a nonchalant Luna. Both girls were surprised Luna wanted to be included, but her last question confirmed it for them. There was a tiny bit of doubt in Luna's voice as she asked the last question, she doubted whether the other two wanted her there for the group activity, and neither wanted anything more than Luna's happiness right now.

"Of course Luna, but... W-Well..." asked an embarrassed Daphne, with Hermione nodding along with her. There was a faint blush of embarrassment of Daphne's cheeks. Luna just tilted her head and looked slightly confused, along with a slight narrow of the eyes.

"Well... Hermione and I have been jogging since we were recruited. Are you sure you will be okay for a forty minute jog?" Asked Daphne, knowing Luna hadn't gone through the same process of recruitment as any of the other soldiers of the Light. She was a Seer and was often needed back at Hogwarts more than on the battlefield, however whenever she requested to leave on a mission she was often granted permission. The Council learned that Luna sometimes subconsciously knew she needed to be in a particular place to ensure something happens, but sometimes not even Luna knew what those things were.

A smile was all the response the two girls got from Luna. She giggled slightly and spun gently in place until she faced the door, then left without a backward glance. This left Daphne and Hermione in confusion, but obviously Luna didn't see a problem with a forty minute jog followed by a hour or more of duelling and spell training.

"Alright then Hermione, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at eight?" Asked Daphne already slightly depressed. She _really_ hated early mornings.

"Okay Daphne, I'll see you bright and early." said Hermione with a slightly mischievous glint in her eye as she followed the Greengrass princess to the door of her quarters. A groan followed by the door closing was the last Hermione heard before turning in for the night. She could hardly wait to show Harry her creation.

#####

A soft pop went unheard in the already silent corridor on the seventh floor of Hogwarts School and castle. A large, ornate set of double doors were already visible to Harry that would not have normally been seen by any passerby. The Room of Requirement had been repurposed into a large council chamber for The Council of Sorcerers. He still had a slight smirk affixed to his face which he quickly adjusted to a more appropriate smile, yet he still had a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

About fifty-five to sixty faces greeted him upon entering the terraced chamber, some grinning maliciously at what was to come, some had friendly smiles, some respectful, others were indifferent to him. In the centre of the chamber, higher than any of the others, were five seats, four of which were occupied, and there sat Moody, Shacklebolt, Amos Diggory, and Rufus Scrimgeour, with the seat for him empty as usual. He bowed slightly at the waist in respect to the Council, many bent their heads back at him in response.

"Sorcerer Potter, you seem well rested after your vacation." growled Scrimgeour. He was always a grouch, but he could not deny how valuable Harry had been to the war effort. He rarely led battles anymore, but he was good at organising the men, and was a terrible foe when angered, as proven by his Sorcerer status. He was a pickle for formalities after spending decades commanding Aurors before the war.

"Hello Rufus, nice to see you too." Harry replied sarcastically. His smirk returned, but only internally. If the Council wanted to make his life a small bit harder, he would happily return the favour.

"Please Sorcerer Potter, this is a formal Council meeting, refer to others by their titles, if you must be informal at least gain permission first." Amos reprimanded Harry lightly. It didn't help that he had a small smile on his face as he did it. Scrimgeour grimaced at the lack of respect on Harry's part, but he was used to it at this point. Harry was known to be informal with everyone he met, whether they were his rank or under him.

"I'll try to Amos." Harry chuckled. Amos' smile didn't falter but grew at Harry's insubordination. Most others were indifferent at this point to Harry's antics.

"Potter." Moody gruffly addressed Harry. "I have already told the Council that your trip was fruitful and explained the need for secrecy, many doubt me. You will still be punished for your tardiness." Moody was abrupt and brief, but was smirking by the end of his statement. Shacklebolt was content saying nothing, but smirked along with his old friend. Harry was expecting as much.

"Sorcerer Potter, this council has had enough of your absence. You are required to attend all further Council meetings, and take up the rest of your responsibilities as a Sorcerer. The rest of this Council have no problems with teaching new recruits along with the rest of the High-witch and wizard tutors. You shall be doing the same from now on." Scrimgeour announced firmly.

"Of course." Harry smirked wider.

Scrimgeour looked like he had been ready to argue but deflated when he heard Harry's agreement. Many around the chamber sat up now, seeing their most powerful agree to teach some classes. He had been given a pass for it up until now due to his astronomical efforts during any of the missions he would be placed on, but now it was time for him to step up to the plate, so to speak.

"I think it's reasonable to give me some time to choose what classes. I am more than qualified to teach most of them." pondered Harry seriously. He already had a plan in place, but the Council couldn't know that yet. He needed some more time to arrange for his prank. Class. Not a prank, a class. Harry's internal smirk was at full force now.

"Good. Another matter has been brought up, Potter." Moody growled out. Harry's internal smirk dimmed.

"Yes, what truth is there to the rumours of your un-aided five hundred mile Apparition?" Scrimgeour asked. This brought more people's attention on him, along with many widened eyes. They may doubt how responsible he is, but they never doubted his power. Many of them could Apparate many tens of miles in a pinch, not many of Harry's friends understood exactly how powerful many of the Sorcerers of the Light truly were, it was much easier for these people to grasp a huge Apparition than his friends who thought forty to fifty mile Apparitions were almost impossible. Needless to say, all attention was on him.

"Yes, that is true. From a place thirty or so miles south of the Ministry building to twenty miles south of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. I've been practising hundred mile Apparitions most days of the week for a few months now. I can accurately Apparate about two hundred miles multiple times per day." Harry responded. Complete silence greeted this statement, with many faces paling at the thought of Apparating more than a hundred miles once in twenty four hours. Not many doubted his claim however. These were the extreme end of the scale in magical power. Some of these people could cast spells powerful enough to kill a hundred men in seconds, and some had. Harry's prodigious talent at Apparating, whether it was skill or power than enabled him to do so, was improbable but not unbelievable.

"Impressive, Lord Sorcerer. You have been experimenting with this safely, I presume?" Amos questioned Harry amused by the young man's hesitance. Harry felt bending the truth would beneficial for all.

"I can assure you; my experimenting had nothing but safety in mind all throughout." Harry said seriously. His statement was true. He had the safety of the Light's _soldiers_ in mind all throughout, he never mentioned his own... Amos chuckled slightly at Harry's answer.

"Thank you, Sorcerer Potter, that will be all. Please, join us up here and take your seat." Shacklebolt joined in, finally. Harry ascended to their higher seats. These five Sorcerers were seen as the five most vital to the war, and presided over these meetings. Moody, an esteemed Senior Auror, and an excellent warrior and teacher. Shacklebolt, a deadly dueller and perfect for most of the important and less 'quiet' missions. Scrimgeour, a master at managing soldiers and deciding command of missions. Amos Diggory, an old Lord of the Wizengamot, turned powerhouse after the war began and an excellent figurehead for the soldiers to look up to. Lord Sorcerer Harry Potter, protégé of Albus Dumbledore, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Slayer of Dragons, Butcher of Demons, Bane of Dementors, the list went on, and on, and on... Too long in Harry's opinion. Both sides of this war knew Harry as the most powerful warrior the Light had.

Much of the rest of the meeting was boring and trivial, bar the last piece of information mentioned. A passing mention was made that a scouting mission reported a small amount of Death Eater activity near their borders far to the south, but they hadn't reported again in some time. Another mission was scheduled including some of the more dangerous Sorcerers and High witches and wizards, either to rescue them, or retrieve the corpses. With that, the congregation split, and Harry quickly made his way back to his alcove. A small pop, missed by all, was the only trace of Harry's Dissapparition.

#####

A sharp crack like that of a whip signified Harry's arrival to the general area of battle. The dark, foreboding forested area was lit only by a multitude of multi-coloured flames. The twisted, battered, unnatural trees blocked Harry's view of any living assailants or defenders but the shades of black and green robes lit by the flames showed the remaining bodies, or in some cases the pieces left. A quick glance about ensured all the unmoving bodies were not getting back up to curse him in the back.

The forest wasn't a normal run-of-the-mills wooded area. The trees looked menacing at the best of times. They were magically grown, either a result of the magical radiation, or a Dark spell to encourage growth. Many of the trees had scorches or chunks taken out, if they weren't already on fire that is. They were thick and closely spaced but the fire didn't look to be spreading however.

Ahead Crimson, purple, verdant green, an eerie black, some bright blue, many yellow or orange, and a few white flames lit the forest into a stark contrast of behind him, giving the forest a dream-like quality. More bodies lay here too. There were stray flashes of light ahead with shouts and not a small amount of noise from spells. Harry donned the Cloak as he sprinted ahead.

The sight that greeted him was a grim one. Two of the ten men, five scouting, five reinforcing, were left. They were pinned behind a particularly wide and tall tree that was already almost useless as cover. He spotted a heavily wounded Dean Thomas holding a profusely bleeding wound to the left kidney. The High witch with him wasn't much better, but she was admirably holding back the seven remaining Death Eaters. They looked to be having too much fun taunting their prey to call for more men to secure the area. They hadn't even noticed Harry shattering the Anti-apparition wards they had set up to prevent the others leaving upon his arrival, and subsequently setting up his own.

A quick sprint put harry directly into the line of fire of the Death Eaters, two open hands in front of him erected a shining translucent yellow _Protego_ that deflected the entirety of the Death Eater's barrage of spell fire. Most stopped in shock before they remembered some rare reports from wounded survivors of a single man or woman reinforcing almost defeated Light soldiers in recent months and completely decimating the Death Eaters, sometimes twenty to one. Two tried to turn in place to Disapparate away. Their faces collectively paled.

" _Diffindo._ " Harry cast calmly. A red bar of energy ripped through his own shield, showing the Death Eaters exactly how powerful he is, before hurtling at a significant speed towards the closely grouped enemies. Six of them had the intelligence to duck; the remaining Death Eater was in shock as the energy passed through him above the waist. He watched in horror as his hands, one clutching his wand, fell from his stumps towards the ground. The top half of him followed quickly after, a wet slop of guts and blood hitting the ground the only sound bar the crackling of the nearby fires.

The remaining six watched in stunned silence as their comrade was cleanly bisected. A quick glance in the previous direction of the shield showed nothing. No tall, dark, intimidating figure, just empty space and silence. The lack of an enemy they could see frightened them more.

"S- _Specialis Revelio! Aparecium!"_ a particularly experienced witch cast, trying to find their assailant. The results, or lack thereof, scared them even more, causing the group to shuffle closer, forgetting about their original prey for now and glance all around them for movement.

A silent yellow curse impacted the head of another witch, causing her head to compress and her neck to bulge with the blood displaced by the force, before the pressure from the spell ended and she toppled over and the blood ran out of the remains of her cranium. At this point the loudly breathing group of five were frantic.

"Show yourself! Coward! F-Fight us, show us your f-face!" shouted one of the braver wizards. The others broke ranks and ran when he fell to the ground holding his collapsed rib-cage. Two more went down to severing charms to the knee or ankle. The last two sprinted a reasonable distance before breaking into a clearing and slowing to a stop. They had heard the screams of their teammates ending quickly behind them. The remaining two wizards stood back to back with their wands raised, waiting for their foe to show itself. The younger wizard was leaning quiet heavily on his compatriot, and that only made the fall worse when his partner was violently beheaded with an unseen spell. He tumbled backwards with a scream of surprise over the headless body that was no longer supporting him. His last glance upwards saw the tip of a gnarled wand poking out of mid air, before a hammer blow of compressed wind destroyed his head.

After the brutal encounter and chase, Harry quickly scanned for more Death Eaters with a spell, and then made his way quickly back to the heavily injured pair. He was good at bruises and small nicks, but nothing like this. He would need to Apparate them back to Hogwarts. He threw off the cloak as he approached.

"Friendly. Enemies dead. It's clear." Called Harry loudly. The two hiding behind the tree were on their last legs. They both looked equal parts shocked and relieved to see him.

"H-Harry... Any others... with you?" came Dean's pain-filled voice. Even with his dark complexion his face looked pale. The witch was breathing but slipping into unconsciousness. They needed to get home now, they had been running on adrenaline up until he arrived and were now in serious danger.

"No Dean, just me. I'll get you home, but this won't feel pleasant in your state." Harry quickly grabbed hold of his friend's right shoulder and the witch's un-injured arm. A soft pop and both were gone.

Left behind was a blood soaked battlefield, burning trees and corpses, limbs discarded after spells and death, miscellaneous gore and organs littered some of the tree roots. In the morning the corpses would be gone. Friendly and enemy corpses would be taken, no trace left behind except for blood stains. The team sent to retrieve the bodies for burial would return frustrated and empty-handed. The report of the taken bodies would be filed, but never given any special notice. It was assumed to be a scare tactic on the Death Eaters part, a tactic that wasn't working on the general populace. Harry was simply glad to have gotten his friend home, and explained the rescue as pure luck. Only the Council members awake at the late hour of his return would truly know what Harry had done, that is before tomorrow, when the castle would realise their returned Lord Sorcerer somehow managed to get almost two hundred miles south and back in the space of time between the Council meeting finishing and then arriving twenty minutes later to the infirmary with two soldiers who were meant to be on border patrol. His title might just grow, if he was unlucky.

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 **And that's a wrap. It gets very gruesome and bloody near the end, this is how I imagine a Harry five years into a seemingly un-ending war would act. I dont really show you how he feels internally, I want just the actions described for the moment, how it all effects Harry will come a bit later, along with any other perspective of how people feel about killing or using horrible spells on people. If you like the graphic descriptions please tell me, I often feel a good gruesome description of wounds or death leaves me feeling more immersed in the story.**

 **Word Count: 12,000+**

 **ETA on next chapter - 30-40 days(I start work soon, writing will depend on my free time.)  
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 **Now then, please Review/Fave/Follow/Whatever so that I feel accomplished!**

 **Till next time. - TheMason**


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